Hell's Angel: Devil's Backbone
by Nightwingbellamy
Summary: Six months after stopping Wilson Fisk, new players come to town and the gang is forced to pick a side. Dani and Alison find themselves on a treacherous path where crossing the line is the new normal. But when they choose to side with a man who has lost everything, Hell's Kitchen is turned upside down. An Angel becomes the Devil and light becomes darkness.
1. The Bagels

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed through my nose, dropping into the metal chair behind the glass. The lanky brunette woman I knew as my mother sat on the other side of the thin sheet glass that separated us. She was the first to reach for her phone. There was a slight hopeful expression to her face, gesturing an inch with the phone, trying to nudge me to pick it up. I paused, making her sweat it out a moment longer.

Then I picked up my black phone and held it to my ear. "Hi," I said, dryly.

"How have you been? I haven't seen you in so long…It's been a while since you visited me," she seemed disappointed.

I squared my shoulders. "There's a reason for that, Mom." She inhaled and looked around a moment. Then she turned back to the glass, hushing her tone just slightly. "You haven't told the boy, have you?" she asked, concerned.

"Have I told him that you work for Hydra and that's why he'll never know his grandmother?" She tilted her head with a lowering of her eyebrows and I sighed. "No. I've been a bit busy lately for that."

"Oh?" she raised an eyebrow, curious, prodding. I remained silent and she scoffed. "You came all this way and you're not going to talk to me? Surely you came for something."

"Yeah, I came to make sure you were still here and you hadn't broken out, yet." That seemed to sting. She sat back a bit in her chair—as far as the telephone cord would let her—and she remained quiet for a long pause. "I'm not that woman anymore, Alison. How many times do I have to tell you?" she asked, pleadingly.

"However many it takes for you to start showing it," I answered, calmly.

She sighed through her nose. "How about instead of insulting me the whole time you're here…you tell me what I've been missing being in this box?" I inhaled. Not a good idea. But, what else was I going to do? I got here early enough that I have at least an hour before Chase's birthday party at Dani's. "Fine. What do you wanna know?" I asked, reluctant.

"Are you still single?" she asked, curiously. I nodded. "Do you still live in that ratty old apartment?" I shook my head.

"I own my own café, now. It has an apartment above the dining area," I explained. "So far it's pretty successful."

"That's wonderful! How is Chase doing? I imagine he's gotten much taller since you last showed me a picture." I dug into my coat pocket and unearthed my cell phone. I flipped to the most recent photo I had and held the phone up to the glass. It was a picture of Chase, Rueben, and I on the fire escape outside my bedroom window. She squinted to see him without her glasses on. "He's eleven, starting today," I told her.

"It's his birthday today?" she asked, in disbelief.

I nodded. "Yep. Happens every year, at around the same time. Imagine that."

She scowled a bit and I slid away my phone. "He doesn't even know I exist, does he?"

"No, he knows. He just thinks you live too far away for us to afford a plane ticket to visit you."

"Why? What would be so harmful about-" she looked genuinely offended.

I inhaled deeply. "Stop right there. What is harmful is having your father die in a terrorist attack, and then having your mother sent to prison two years later. I won't let you do the same thing to him as you did to me. The only thing you could ever bring him is embarrassment," I said, trying to rein in my annoyance. "What is harmful…is knowing _you_."

I hung the phone back up at a bewildered mother, and then flagged down the guard. I stood and he escorted me out, and I wondered why I even bothered coming when I knew exactly how it would end every time—disaster.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"The Bagels," he said proudly.

My eyebrows knitted together as I scoffed, "Do you name EVERYTHING after food?"

"Yes." Chase looked around at us. "And the girls will be called Toast."

I sighed. "Why?"

"Because, when we're done, you'll be _toast_."

Everyone started laughing. Except me. I wanted to strangle him. We're in the room across the hall from mine, in my building. I had it and the adjoining rooms stripped of everything, including walls. Now, it's one giant floor. I usually use it for training, but today it's Chase's birthday and it's serving as our playground.

"Whatever." I sighed and straightened. "Okay, so per Chase's request, it's boys verses girls. So they're two teams. Chase, Foggy, Matt; Alison, Mary, and myself. The rules are simple; get your hostage back and to your side before the other team does the same." I looked down at Chase. "And no face shots." He smiled sheepishly.

"This is crazy," Mary said.

"Blame Chase." I looked at her while pointing at him. "He's been begging me to do this since he discovered this room. Or rather, stole the master keys and started snooping." I glared at him again. He offered a weak smile and shrunk away. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm not shooting anything. So, I'll be a hostage for the…Toast."

Chase smiled and got all giddy, jumping up and down. "I'm a SHOOTER!" he shouted. Oh. My. Goodness. What did I ever do…? Why me? I sighed. Matt volunteered as the other hostage, claiming it'd be safer for everyone else. I just think it's because this really isn't his idea of fun. Shooting things…that's MY idea of fun. And Chase's, apparently.

"How many times can you get hit?" Foggy asked.

"It's not so much about you as it is your hostage," I said. "Though, keep in mind, these will sting. But you can tap out at any time. If your hostage gets more than three hits, you lose. If your team is covered in the most paint, but your hostage survives, you lose." I then showed them how to use the paint ball guns. I fitted everyone with vests and goggles, then passed out weapons. "Along with the normal gun," I said, "I have paint ball grenades. You pull the pin and they explode, sending paint everywhere."

"Cool!" Chase ran to the box of grenades.

"This is a game, Dani," Alison said, "not war."

"Do you want one or not?" I held one out to her. She rolled her eyes and then took it. I nodded, as Chase emerged from the box strapped with two belts of grenades, holding about twenty each. "Okay," I sighed. "Everyone to your places." I had two chairs, one at each end of the room, for the hostages. The room was a rectangle, a good hundred yards long. I had plastic barrels and a few pallets here and there to hide behind. Along with the four support beams.

Mary was not happy to be a part of this, but we needed a third person. Others, like Chase and Foggy, were bursting at the seams. Alison looked a little miffed, too. "Cheer up, dude." I straightened my goggles and then adjusted the gun in my hands. "Your kid's leaving here a happy man. Besides," I shrugged, "you know how to use that."

"For self-defense. Against an _actual_ threat."

"Yeah, and you have a threat. He's three feet tall, eleven, and your son." She glared at me. I shrugged. "The other is your ex. The one who cheated on you with the same girl he's _still_ dating…?" I pointed out. She thought for a second and I could see when it clicked in her eyes. Her hands tightened on the gun and I saw an almost wild look in her eye. I looked down the room where the boys are, then back at her. "Hey, Alison. Hit him where it hurts."

"You wimps ready, yet?" Chase yelled down at us. I sighed and glanced at Mary. She had her arms and legs crossed, very displeased. I smiled, catching a glimpse of Alison as I faced the boys. "Ladies, first!" I shouted. I heard someone laugh in the distance. Then a blue smear zipped past my face and struck the wall six feet above Mary's head. She screeched as Alison and I went into attack mode. Game. On.

We quickly moved forward, knees slightly bent, guns at the ready. We were in almost the same position. I veered left as she went right. I ducked behind the first pallet I came to, wedging the tip of the rifle between the slats. I was on one knee, looking through the scoop. So far there's no sign of the boys. And I don't think that's a good thing.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and looked up at Alison. She had a questioning look on her face. I nodded, agreeing with her. I pulled a grenade off my belt and then pulled the pin. I stood and chucked it to the far end of the room. I ducked back down, hearing a ting as it bounced off of something. A second later it came rolling back.

I swore under my breath and then got out of there as fast as I could. I twisted around the pallet and then pulled it down on top of me, flattening to the ground. It exploded a second later and I felt the paint smack against the pallet. There is no way they could've known that was coming.

I tossed the pallet and then stood. I recovered my gun just in time to hit Chase as he flew around the corner. I knocked the gun out of his hand as he pulled the trigger. The gun spun to the side, the paint hitting Foggy. "Hey! That's not fare!" he said.

"Like that last move wasn't?" I popped Chase in the chest twice more before he took cover. A paint ball that wasn't mine, struck Foggy between the legs. He instantly went down. Chase tried to pull him behind cover, with no luck. I sighed. This is too easy. I glanced over my shoulder at Alison. The look on her face…said a thousand things.

I walked up to her as the boys retreated. "One of us needs to stay close to Mary."

"Yes!" Mary said. "Please, I do not want to get hit!"

I faced her and smiled. Alison opened her mouth to reply when we were both struck by paint. Alison got hit in the shoulder, splattering my face with yellow as I got hit in the calf. I slightly buckled and then recovered, turning to aim. Alison was still hissing as I popped Foggy between the legs. He dropped to the ground again.

"Not…fair," he said.

"It hurts if a woman is hit there."

"Oh, yeah!" Chase pointed his gun at Alison and hit her with a pink ball. And then, both teams were down one. I sighed, rolling my eyes. I shot Chase before grabbing the back of Alison's vest and dragging her behind a barrel. Alison was soooo not happy. "Hey," I said. "In the end, he's still your son." She almost growled at me as I quickly took cover somewhere else.

The boys were gone again. And this time, it was too quiet. I stayed close to Mary but not out in the open. I went for another grenade. I pulled the pin and then threw it. A second later, it came back. I quickly pulled off my rifle strap, grabbed the barrel and then struck the grenade with the butt of the gun. "Four!"

I stood in the open and watched it. Foggy stepped out from behind a barrel and hit it. "What the-" I sighed as it rolled back. I ran up to it and kicked it. It made it half way before exploding. "I know that's you, Murdock!" I shouted. "You're not supposed to use your hostage as a stinkin' grenade GPS!"

They chucked a grenade, aimed too well at Alison. She shot it, causing it to explode on the ceiling. Okay. So that's how it's going to be. Matt can hear and 'see' everything we do. I glanced at Alison and she seemed to know what I was thinking. It's time to play dirty. I nodded toward the boys and she started walking toward them, firing.

She kept them distracted while I tried to even the playing field. I ran to the grenade box and then pulled out a small flat disk. I dug a little and then found another. I smiled as I returned to the battle ground. I stopped, standing in the middle of the road. Alison slowly backed up behind me, still firing.

I pressed and held down the centers of each circle for three seconds. Then, I threw them like stars. One going left and the other right. They slide across the floor, coming to a stop. All gun fire ceased as we all waited for them to start working. A second later, the devices started emitting the same frequency as a dog whistle. It won't hurt Matt, but it will scramble his radar.

I smiled to myself as we moved in. Foggy and Chase had split up to find the devices and turn them off. Alison and I walked back to Matt like we owned the place. Because now we do. As soon as they try to shut off the device, it'll spray paint in their faces. Land mine. I heard Chase's explode as we reached Matt.

"Hey, honey," I said as Foggy's exploded. "Miss me?" He looked relieved once the noise had stopped…but that wasn't the same expression he gave me.

"Let's go." Alison got him to his feet and then we were on our way back. I lead, watching for the two knuckle heads. And yet, they were nowhere to be found. We were taking their hostage and they had vanished? I don't think so. Foggy made a break for it, running at Mary. I sprinted forward and shot him in the back. I kept shooting until I knew he was down.

We were twenty feet away. Just twenty more feet and The Toast, the expected loser because of our gender, was going to win. Now fifteen feet. Almost there. Chase appeared from the far left. I turn to shoot as Alison grabs Matt's arm and pulls him forward, rushing him to the finish line. Chase starts running forward, charging. I'd shooting and he'd bounce back. I'd shoot him again and he kept coming.

That's when I noticed what he was doing. As he was running, he was pulling out every pin of every grenade on both belts. A suicide bomber. I just barely got Alison's name out as the whole thing exploded in an array of fruity colors. Paint washed over me like someone had let the dam out on the river of paint.

I released my gun and then brought up my hands. I peeled the goggles off and placed them on my forehead. I was nothing—NOTHING—but paint. I spit out a wad of paint and cringed. Chase looked worse than I did, being the source. I turned, glancing around the room. Foggy, Alison, and Matt were all caked.

"Looks like a draw," I said, spitting out more paint. Chase smiled, his bright teeth the only human feature currently on his body. Alison started laughing and I looked at her. I followed her gaze. She was staring at our hostage, Mary. Mary lowered her umbrella, which she had used as a shield, and then stood.

"Looks like we one." She shook the umbrella and then folded it down. Not a _speck_ of paint on her. I looked at her questioningly. She looked at me and shrugged. "I told you, I am _not_ getting paint on me."

I glanced around at the others. Foggy was standing now. He didn't look happy. No one was happy with their new appearance. He raised his gun and fired, shooting Mary in the stomach. She screamed and jumped back. "Franklin Nelson!"

We all burst out laughing at that. After a few minutes, and once she deemed wiping off the paint futile, she joined in. She started chuckling and then pointed at Foggy. "You're gonna get it. When you least expect it."

I started flinging off paint and shaking out my goggles. "Yeah, and she means it, Nelson. When a Dylan makes a promise, it's until completion," I said. Foggy shook it off like it was a joke. He'll learn. Matt walked up to me as I pulled off my vest. Chase started screaming about how much fun it was and for us to do it again. And, in unison, we all shouted, "NO!" The vote was unanimous and Chase lost his election.

I glanced up at Matt, dropping my vest on the floor. "You mad?" I asked sheepishly. I'd be.

He shook his head. "No. You just out cheated the cheaters." We both smiled. Off in the distance, Chase and Alison started arguing. She wanted him the change his clothes and he didn't want too. Typical. "Chase, don't make me come over there," I said. "Remember the last time I had to strip you?" He instantly snapped to attention and then quickly did what his mother said. I looked back at Matt. "You're filthy."

He chuckled. "So are you."

I pulled at the paint on my face and then flicked it at the ground. I spit out more paint, nearly choking on it. "You got that right."


	2. Rueben

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Humming along to whatever 80's pop song Chase had set up on the jukebox before school, I loaded up my tray with empty dishes from various tables around the Café. The breakfast rush was over an hour or two ago but it was never too early to start preparing for the lunch goers. The customers were scattered around the dining area with plenty of space between each of them. I collected what I could and headed back to the counter.

On my way, I glanced toward the front. It was a nice day out. It's been almost too nice lately. Thankfully I was able to afford an air conditioning system; otherwise everyone and everything in this building would probably melt and I'd be mopping us off the floor. I finally arrived behind the counter and unloaded the dishes into the sink. Mary sighed, ambling past me, and leaned into the front counter to my right. "It's been a busy morning," she exhaled.

" _Very_. Are you surviving?" I asked, glancing at her with a light smile.

She rounded her eyes a moment in a gesture. "Barely—at least this place has air conditioning, though."

"Amen to that." We both laughed. Working here with Mary has been fun. I was always good at co-working, social situations. But this feels like family. It's definitely a lot better than working nights at the diner. With that thought, I made a mental note to remember to call Betsy and catch up. I've probably waited way too long for that. The small chime above the door tinkled and Mary nudged my side.

"You've got another one," she said, tilting her head toward the door. "Looks kind of shady."

I sighed lightly. "We've had _plenty_ of those. I can handle it. Be right back."

She nodded and I grabbed my pen and paper off the counter beside her. This new customer took a seat at the table closest to the front door, near the right corner of the Café. Mary was right about looking a little shady. _Iffy_ would probably be the better term to use. Ball cap, heavy jacket, with that quiet/brooding vibe. To any normal, sane person it would be a little intimidating. But I live in Hell's Kitchen.

And it's not like I couldn't handle it if something went array. I'm more capable than I've ever been—thanks to Dani and a little help from her friends at S.H.I.E.L.D. I'd never taken any self-defense classes before, even though I probably should've, but it went better than I expected. More like _I_ went better than expected. I inhaled and stepped up beside the table.

"Welcome to Angel's, can I get you anything?" I asked, putting on a polite smile.

He glanced up, just enough to see his eyes under the rim of his hat. He looked worn, weathered, with tired features. "Coffee, please. Black." His voice didn't match his appearance. It was deep and a bit raspy, but it was a light tone that seemed polite enough to almost pass for happy. I nodded once. "Alright. I'll be right back," I replied. I turned and shuffled back to the counter.

"So? Do I need to beat him up for you?" Mary asked, teasing.

I chuckled and shook my head. "No, sheesh. He just wanted coffee."

" _Just_ coffee?" she raised an eyebrow, leaning a hip into the sink.

I went to the coffee machine and started filling a mug. I eyed her a second. "Just what are you getting at?"

"Well, a lot of good looking men seem to always come in just wanting coffee and there could only be two answers for that," she held up a finger, as if she were solving some mysterious crime. I sighed, turning to face her with the coffee in hand. "Either they are really just coming for the coffee, or they're coming for you."

I scoffed. "What? You're here, too."

"Yeah, but they only ever deal with you."

"Well, I'm just fine going solo for now," I chuckled. "So you and your bad Sherlock Holmes impersonation will just have to settle for the first reason." Her lips screwed up to one side in an expression but I ignored her with a smirk and headed back out into the dining area with Mr. Grumpy's coffee in hand. I hurried over and set the mug down on the table in front of him. "There you go. Just let me know if you need anything else."

"Thank you," he nodded once.

Thankfully he wasn't looking at me when my eyebrow involuntarily twitched up a second. Nothing else moved. Just my eyebrow. I had to mentally slap myself and also remind myself that I was serving a paying customer and I was at work—I had to act professional. I nodded in return and went deeper into the dining area to check up on some of the customers. Refill drinks, see if they needed something else, and offer them the special of the day.

I let Mary pick it this time, so we're serving lemon cake today. I glanced back at Mr. Grumpy's table after a minute to see if I could catch a reaction. It wasn't in the order, but I'd secretly slipped a smiling face of foam on top of the black coffee. He was eyeing the coffee, presumably in thought, fingering the mug a bit. I smiled and hurried back to waiting tables.

Three of the four other tables didn't need serving. But the fourth one needed drink refills so I rushed the cups back to the counter, refilled them, and headed back out. I smiled approaching the table—two young-looking women. "Here you are, ladies," I set the drinks in front of them both in turn. "Can I get you anything else?"

The brunette one of the two politely smiled and shook her head. "No, thank you. I think we're alright for now."

"Okay. I'll be right over at the counter, so just flag me down if you change your mind." They both nodded, saying their mixed _thank you_ 's, and I turned to head back to the counter. Just as I did I heard a hellish sound. An unearthly loud squeal and a series of hisses startled me. I whirled left. Some guy from one of the other tables was shoeing Rueben away—with his foot. Professionalism flew out the window. My mouth dropped open.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" I called, stepping over. Rueben, the poor thing, he trotted away as quickly as he could, moving to hide upstairs. The man that kicked my cat turned to me with a disgruntled look. "That _rat_ wouldn't leave me alone," he complained.

Both my eyebrows rose as I made an ' _excuse me?_ ' expression. I was about to say something when chair legs screeching and a male voice behind me spoke up before I could, "Apologize." I turned a bit to see who'd spoken, but I already had a pretty good idea. The idiot that kicked Rueben scoffed with a look that said the notion was absurd.

"For what?" he spat. "If _she_ would keep her stupid fur ball out of the dining room, there wouldn't be a problem."

My blood boiled and I stared at the man, agape. Mr. Grumpy slowly made his way around the two tables between him and the situation and stopped a foot from the idiot in front of me. He was considerably taller than the idiot, and a lot more broad-shouldered. "I said… _apologize_ to her," Mr. Grumpy said, his tone low. The idiot looked highly uncomfortable right then, but he didn't back down.

He scowled. "No."

It happened in a second. I barely had time to comprehend what was happening before Mr. Grumpy went full Arnold Schwarzenegger Terminator on the guy, grabbing him by his shirt collar and slamming him on top of the black metal table like it was nothing. A small gasp escaped me as I instinctively jolted back a step. Mr. Grumpy got up in the idiot's face. "Apologize, you piece of trash," he demanded.

"No! Now let me go!" The idiot squirmed, trying to break free. It wasn't working. Suddenly Mr. Grumpy's arm was winding back and he was sending his fist into the idiot's jaw. I counted three hard hits. My hand moved to cover my mouth as he hit him a fourth time. Blood was sprinkled on the idiot's shirt and probably on my floor. "Let's try this again," Mr. Grumpy seethed. " _Apologize_."

"I don't _want_ his apology," I spoke up, my voice remaining as steady as it could. Mr. Grumpy instantly twisted to see me. The spark in his eyes was wild, feral. But it was even and controlled at the same time. He eyed me for a second and I thought maybe he'd let the guy go. Instead, he turned back to the idiot and hefted him off, then slammed him down atop the table face first with a hard heave. The sound of the table cracking echoed loudly throughout the room.

It snapped in half from the force and the idiot's face hit the floor, hard. There were other disturbing sounds but I couldn't tell if they were from the guy or the table. Mr. Grumpy's chest heaved as he turned a little more toward me. All I could do was stare for a bewildered second.

"Why did you do that?" I practically screeched. His eyes were on me in a second and my skin itched under his intense gaze. I inhaled to calm myself. "You need to leave. _Now_."

Something flickered across his face and it drooped. He suddenly looked like a kicked puppy with saddened, drooping eyes and a downcast expression. Despite his violence toward the idiot that kicked my cat, he didn't lift a finger—just turned and sauntered out of the Café without a word. I watched the exit for a moment to make sure he wasn't coming back. Then I moved over closer to the guy bleeding on my floor.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"So, what's the job?" May asked.

"Don't know," Hunter didn't even look up at her as he replied. Though he's still determined to see this through, he's _very_ bored. He wanted Ward dead yesterday.

"When's it going down?"

"Don't know."

"Any idea where?"

"Not yet."

"You do realize the point of intelligence gathering, is to gather intelligence?" May put her hand on her hip, becoming more annoyed by the second.

"The point is," I said, "we're moving up the food chain."

"And that lunatic Kebo is finally bringing us in on a job," Hunter added. We were meeting in a parking garage. Unfortunately, there wasn't much we could tell her. Ward is still Ward, and Hydra is doubling with each day. But we already knew that. And with Ward at the helm, who knows what this new Hydra will be capable of.

"Or luring you into a trap," she argued. "We have to be smart about this."

"We are," I said. She glanced at me. She knew I was serious. I have my head in the right spot. It's Hunter she's worried about. She looked back at him with a sigh.

"It's not complicated, really. Just point, shoot, repeat as necessary," he said. A slight grin crossed my face. Everything sounds better with his accent.

"You don't have enough intel. It's sloppy." She looked at me. "Even for you."

"We're doing the best we can," I said. "Getting into Hydra isn't as easy as it looks. And it's even harder _staying_ in Hydra. You saw what it took to get us this far."

"Look, if it's a chance to find Ward, it's worth it."

She took a step closer to him. "What happens if you walk into a room full of Hydra enforcers with guns pointed at your head?"

"That's what you're here for- to help. Try to keep up, love."

"This isn't funny, Hunter."

"Yeah, I've been telling him that since this whole thing started," I said.

He took a few steps away, before whipping around. "I didn't _ask_ for you to come along. I don't need a bloody babysitter!"

"Then try acting like it." May crossed her arms. "There are innocent lives at risk."

"There's always lives at risk!" he shouted at her. He paused and sighed. He seemed to regroup in his mind. "You were there- both of you…when Bobbi was bleeding out in my arms. Ward did that. If I have a shot at finding him, I'm taking it." He looked at me. "You should know what that's like." He held his stare a second, then started pacing.

I know exactly what that's like. Matt and I have had our fair share of close calls. But he's referring to when Nobu and Fisk nearly killed us. I sighed. "I do. I wanted Fisk's head- and I nearly got it several times. But I held back and waited for the right moment, to get him on my terms. Last time, Ward had you two on _his_ terms. This will be different."

"Look…I want Ward as bad as you do," May said. "But I don't think his life is worth yours, Bobbi's, or Dani's."

He nodded. "That we can agree on." I recognized the look in his eyes, and I could tell May did, too.

"Once you get the time and place, call me."

"Yes, mum." Hunter turned and walked away. I sighed and looked at May. Her glare said a thousand words. "I know," I nodded. "Him before Ward." She nodded. I turned and then jogged to catch up with Hunter. "Hey!" I shouted as I caught up.

He stopped and turned around, not looking very pleased to see me. "What now?"

"I told you what happened with Fisk so you knew I understood what you and Bobbi are going through…not so you could throw it back in my face, when it best suited you. Whether you like it or not, we're a team on this. My life depends just as much on you as yours does on me. Without me VOLUNTERING to do this, May never would've agreed to any of this and you'd never have had this shot at Ward."

"I know." He dropped his head and then looked at me. "I know and I'm sorry- about the comment. That was out of line, even for me. But…why didn't you kill him? Fisk. Why let it drag out and give him one more go around?"

"My partner has taught me a lot…one of those things being that there's another way to do it. And, had I gotten my way, Fisk would've died in the most painful way possible."

He raised an eye brow. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No," I shrugged. "But, this way, he's going to sit in a cell for the rest of his life. For him, that'll be more painful than any form of torture I could ever think of." I sighed. "But, with or without Ward, you two will get through it."

"Like you and Mystery Man?" He tucked his hands into his jacket pockets and then started walking toward the car. "Seriously, what is with the codenames?"

I chuckled. "You'd know if you ever spent the night kicking but in a mask. S.H.I.E.L.D….way different than being a vigilante." We went back to our apartment and then wait for Hydra to contact us. They texted a few hours later with a time and place. It took twenty minutes to get to the alley where they wanted to meet. And then we waited.

It seemed like forever. Mainly, though, cause it was. "Three hours," I sighed.

"I know," he moaned. He glanced around then looked at me. "You look very…strange with red hair."

"It'll take Ward longer to recognize me. And, I'm not a fan either."

A car pulled into the end of the alley. It drove straight toward us, stopping right next to us. Two men climbed out of the front of the car. They walked around to the end of it. "Clearly," Hunter said, "punctuality ain't one of Hydra's core values."

"Funny," the one said. "Hands on the car."

Hunter scoffed. "I thought we were past that." We both walked to the car and put our hands on it. They felt our pockets. Mine were empty. But they found a cell phone in Hunter's. They guy snapped it in half and tossed it.

"Gotta make sure you're clean," the guy said. "Director's orders."

"Director?" I asked.

"It's a thing with the boss. Some kind of S.H.I.E.L.D. nonsense." He walked to the trunk and opened it. "In you go."

"Oh, I ain't getting in the bloody boot," Hunter said. "It stinks of rotten bananas in there."

"Does, doesn't it?" he stared at Hunter, then motioned toward the trunk. "Get in." I felt the other guy push me toward it.

"Wait," I said. " _Both_ of us?"

"Are you bloody mad?" Hunter asked. The guy just stared back at us. Hunter and I glanced at each other. We knew we had no choice in the matter. I sighed. Hunter shook his head and then climbed in. I'm so glad we're both skinny people. Otherwise, this would never work. I climbed in after him. Hunter shoved himself as far back as he could.

I pressed my back into his stomach, squeezing in. The guy looked down at us and smiled. "Get comfy, now. It's gonna be a long ride." Then he slammed the trunk closed. I sighed and Hunter moaned. This is not how I pictured infiltrating Hydra. Crammed in the trunk of a four door, spooning with an obnoxious brit, for who knows how many hours. Someone shoot me now.

"Never question my loyalty to this mission," I said. I moved as far forward as I could, trying to give him some more space. Our legs were a tangled mess at the end. The car started driving. My eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness.

"Yeah…I know."

"You're lucky my boyfriend has no idea where I am…or what I'm touching, right now."

"Speaking of which, if you could move your-" He started to say. I knew what he was getting at and scooted my pelvis forward, another inch away from him. He sighed in relief. "Thank you. Yeah…if you could not mention this to Bobbi-"

"It's not going in _my_ report," I scoffed.

"Okay, deal."

I have no idea how long we were in that trunk together. Minutes turned into an hour, an hour turned into a few. At some point Hunter started snoring. I sighed, with nowhere to run. I think I even dosed off, myself. The car came to a hard stop and I was jolted out of my half sleep. I heard the front car doors open and then nudged Hunter. He moaned. The trunk door opened and sunlight blasted us.

It's morning? How long were we in there? I climbed out gingerly, sore and stiff. Hunter right behind me. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Welcome to where all the fun begins," the guy said. The same one who wanted us in the trunk. He pushed us foreword and we started walking. We looked to be at a ware house of some kind. "Director's still mulling over a code name for the place. 'Nemesis'. 'Omega Point'." We walked past a few vans full of guns. Past that were some tables with an assembling line of people. They were putting together and loading guns.

"Sounds a bit too S.H.I.E.L.D. for my liking," Hunter said. And I agree. Ward isn't rebuilding Hydra. He's making his own evil S.H.I.E.L.D.

"Rumor has it Director spent some time with them."

We walked past a corked board with some maps on it. Hunter and I stopped and stared at it. "Planning a raid?" I asked.

The guy stepped in front of the maps, "Always planning something." He nodded behind us. "You can ask the Director yourself." We both froze.

"So…" I recognized his voice instantly. "These the new guys?"

"Yeah," the guy said. "Go on, turn around, Richy." He gave Hunter a shove.

"Yeah, why so shy?" Ward asked. I sighed. I turned around looking at Hunter as I did. Ward smiled when he saw me, but I didn't see that spark of recognition in his eyes. So, I was in the clear. I nudged Hunter. I looked at him. He locked eyes with me and I knew what he was about to do.

"My name isn't Richy…" he turned around and faced Ward. "…Director." Ward pulled out his gun and suddenly everyone in the room was shooting at us. Hunter leapt over a wooden crate and then hid behind a large metal one. I grabbed a gun off the table next to me, got down on my knees. I fired a few rounds Ward's way before tucking and rolling across the room. I managed to get behind a metal shipping crate in the far back left.

I glanced over at Hunter and he had a gun and was returning fire. I looked for Ward but his men already had him stashed in the back room. He was still returning fire, though. That means I have a shot at hitting him. I shot any and everything that could shoot back. I emptied my clip and then tossed the gun. I turned back into the crates. I weaved through until I found Hunter.

I snagged another gun and then continued firing. Hunter and I slowly backed up, disappearing into the shipping crates. The shooting stopped after a few more rounds, and I knew they were looking for us. "We need to split up," Hunter whispered.

"No!" I whispered yelled. "Are you crazy?"

"We need to get Ward."

"I know, but-" Before I could finish, he ran off. I sighed and began to follow, then instantly stopped and went the other way when I caught shadows of armed men. I sighed. Hunter, you're an idiot.

"Oh, come on!" Ward yelled. "You two weren't dumb enough to come here alone, were you?" I worked my way to the far wall. "Is that you, Dani?"

"Why don't you come here and find out?" I said.

"Oh, it is you." I could hear the amusement in his voice. "Hunter, I can see coming alone, but…not you Dani. In fact, I'm surprised to see you at all. Thought you wrote me off when I left S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Sorry," Hunter yelled back, "this coming from the same guy who shot his own girlfriend by mistake?" That was a good one. There was a long pause, so I know that stung.

"I was hoping you were dead, and Bobbi was coming. At least that rematch would've been more even."

"Hardly," I yelled. "I heard it took two of you after hours of torture."

"Yep. Lesson learned," Ward said. "Should've rigged the door with a grenade."

I sighed. I slowly started working my way to the front. I think there are at least a dozen men out here. I turned the corner as a man turned toward me. I put two in his chest and then kept going. That makes eleven. I suddenly heard gunshots ring out. I looked toward the sound and saw May standing on top of one of the crates about twenty feet away. She fired a few more times and then jumped down. She must have Hunter. Good. That means I can focus on Ward.

"May…" I heard Ward say. "Is that you? 'Cause that would be great. I mean, I was hoping to hold out for a little while longer." I rolled my eyes and kept going. I ran into another guy and shot him. I heard shots in the distance. "I'm so glad you're here, May…you, too, Dani." I grumbled and pushed forward, shooting two men. "I was planning on heading out with a truck full of weapons that Hunter so kindly supplied. Looking to cause a little mayhem, draw S.H.I.E.L.D. out, when instead…you came to me."

"You're trapped, Ward," May yelled.

"Hey. Don't interrupt. Not before you see my surprise."

I walked up next to May. She looked at me and nodded. I returned the nodded, just as a cell phone slid out in front of us. It was playing a video. I looked a little closer and saw Andrew on it. As in May's ex husband. "That's a live feed, in case you were wondering," Ward said. "Dr. Garner's on his way to teach a class right now. Psych 301, I believe. I've got my men on him right now."

"He's bluffing," Hunter whispered. He was hiding behind a crate across the aisle from us.

"Watching him die like this isn't quite the same as, oh, let's say, holding the woman you love in your arms while she breathes her last breath. But, hey…it's the best I could do on such short notice."

"He's trying to get into your head. The video is fake."

"May," I said. She looked at me. I could see the amount of indecision on her face. "You can't take that chance."

"If I don't call off my men in the next thirty seconds," Ward said, "Dr. Andrew Garner, the ex Mr. May, is a dead man. All you have to do is put your weapons downs, and I'll let you go."

"You're lying!" May said.

"I'm not. Give you my word, May."

"He has a warehouse full of guns here, that I brought him," Hunter said. "A lot of people will die, May. May?"

"It's Andrew," she said.

"I'm sorry." Hunter quickly left his hiding spot, making a bee line for Ward.

"Hunter!" I rounded the corner and followed him. May covered my back, taking out a few guys. Hunter was ten feet ahead of me. He ran into the room Ward was in and I lost sight of him. Some guy came out of nowhere. He smacked me with the butt of his gun. I stumbled and caught myself. I spun, a stray bullet clipping my arm. I shot the guy and then ran into the room.

Hunter fired a shot just as Ward jumped out a window. Hunter ran to the window. Blood was on the wall next to it, so I know he got him. I lowered my gun and walked to him. He fired a few shots out the window. I stood a few feet to his left and watched as Ward drove away. I was fuming on the inside, my jaw clenched.

Hunter gave up and stopped shooting. He lowered his gun and then turned toward me. Without hesitation, I decked him. Then I turned and stopped when I saw May. She was _not_ happy. I've been on her bad side and it is not somewhere you want to be. I would feel sorry for Hunter if he wasn't such an idiot.

I walked up to May. I put my hand on her shoulder. She broke her gaze from Hunter and looked at me. She then pulled out her phone and tried to call her ex husband. But, I'm afraid, It's too late for him. Because of Hunter's quest for revenge, a man might be dead. One that could've been avoided. I sighed and dropped my gun.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I made a groaning sound of frustration, practically stabbing the cash register buttons with my fingers. Once again the stupid thing was having fits. And once again it was a busy day and I had customers that would have to wait. Again. I called the company to get it fixed or maybe just some troubleshooting techniques. But they said that the only way to fix it would be to have someone actually look at the machine.

And that wouldn't be possible until next week. It was so frustrating. It wasn't like this model was old—it was brand new! Stupid corporate-

"You'll never guess who just walked in the door," Mary suddenly said, coming over to me from the hot plate. I exhaled. _Calm down, Alison. It's just a cash register_.

I glanced up at her, inhaling. "Who?"

"It's mister happy fists," she replied, crossing her arms. "He's back for more." I instantly looked over at the front of the Café. Sure enough, Mr. Grumpy was sitting at the same table by the door in the same seat, in the same position. I groaned and looked to Mary with pleading eyes. She held up a hand. "Don't worry—I got it," she nodded once, and then headed out into the dining area. I honestly don't know where I would be without Mary working here.

She's like the protective, responsible, wise older sister I never had. I may have been parenting longer than she has but I think _I_ actually am the one learning from _her_. I shook the forsaken cash register a little and tried the key. It wouldn't even turn in the slightest. A sound that was a mixture of a groan and a helpless whine escaped me and I dropped my forehead onto the top of the machine. I might as well just buy a new one.

The clearing of a throat caused me to lift my head. "Um, Alison?" It was Mary, giving me an odd look. I sighed and stood up straight, readjusting my sweater. "Let me guess," I said, dryly. "He wants coffee?"

"I don't know. He only wants to speak to you," she announced, apologetically.

"Of course he does." I slumped, overwhelmed and over stressed. This is ridiculous. My cash register won't work and some psychotic guy with overactive fists won't leave me alone. Just what I needed. Inhaling, I squared my shoulders and nodded once, then started out for the dining area. I didn't really know what I would say when I arrived at his table. What do you say exactly?

I was already stressed from another busy afternoon arguing with the cash register. Sighing, I stepped up beside the table. "What are you doing back here?" I asked, tiredly. He was virtually in the same outfit—from what I could tell from this angle. And his mood seemed the same as yesterday, as well. He stood up from his chair and I took a half step back to make more space between us. You don't know how tall a person is until they're standing in front of you.

And this guy had at least a foot on me, if not more. He looked genuinely apologetic. "I'm sorry about the table," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of twenties. "This should cover the cost of replacing it." The gesture surprised me. I didn't peg him for the remorseful type. Hesitantly, I took the money, a bit in shock. As soon as I did he started around me for the door. What bad guy breaks something and then pays to fix it?

A pang of guilt hit my chest and I sighed. "Wait," I turned around. Thankfully I'd caught him before he went completely out the door. Keeping the money didn't feel right. I wouldn't be able to make myself even if I wanted to. I walked over to him and held out the bills. "Keep your money. It's a really sweet gesture, but…I can't take it."

He seemed to understand, taking the money, and sliding it away into his pocket. I inhaled, "If you want coffee, it's on the house today." I smiled a closed-mouthed smile and headed back to the counter. Mary was busy slicing cheese for sandwiches when I returned. But she didn't seem to find it hard to start talking. "So? Did you kick him out?" she asked, an inch of humor to her tone.

I went back to fiddling with the cash register, slamming my fingers into the buttons. "Nope."

"What? Why?" I looked to see her and she'd stopped cutting to give me a bewildered look. "He's obviously trouble." Something caught my eye to the left and I glanced in that direction. Mr. Grumpy sat back down at his table. I guess he decided to stay.

"I know," I answered, heading for the coffee machine.

She exhaled, shaking her head, and resumed cutting. "I will never understand your reasoning, Alison," she grumbled, under her breath. Quite frankly, I don't think I will either. But I wasn't about to tell her that. Acting like you know what you're doing when you're completely lost and spiraling out of control is an art form, and I feel confident that I've mastered it. Appearance is key.

I filled a mug with steaming coffee. It was funny watching the look on his face last time, so I sprung for the foam again and drew a wide smiling face on the surface of the black liquid. Without saying a word, I went to his table and dropped off the coffee, and then came back to the counter in one fail swoop.

I stepped up to the cash register and tried the key once more. Nothing. It wouldn't even budge or give _at all_. So I dropped the key and held up my hands. "I give up," I shook my head at the situation. "I'll just wait a week for the stupid technician." I grabbed my tray then and made to head out into the dining area. On my way around the corner of the counter, I glanced at Mr. Grumpy. Once again he was eyeing his coffee.

But this time there was the ghost of a smile present on his lips. I found myself smiling as I continued on to check on the other customers.


	3. Shoot

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"This is ridiculous," Matt laughed, holding my bow in his hand.

I chuckled. "No, it's not. I have suffered _many_ days of boxing…it's your turn."

"I can't even see the target."

"You can see the post, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then." I stood and then walked the thirty yards to it. I sat an apple on top of the four foot post. "Can you see that?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." I walked back up to him. "But, it really doesn't matter what you hit, the arrow's not leaving this room." After the hours it took to clean up all the paint from the other day's fun, I set back up my targets. Blind or not, he's doing this. "Hold the bow in front of you, in your left hand." He did as I said. "Good." I put an arrow in his right hand. "Now, the arrow lays on a rest in the middle of the bow on the left side, just above your left hand. On the end of it is a notch. The string goes inside of it."

I watched as he did his best to set the arrow. It took a couple minutes, but I don't care. I got to see what he does; now he gets to see what I do. "Then just make sure the end of the arrow is in the center of the string," I said. I gave him the recurve, so it's easier. I used a compound bow with a sixty pound pull out in the field. This recurve only has a pull of thirty. Let's just say…this bow was meant for six year olds. So, I'm not going too hard on him. Though, he doesn't know that.

"Like that?"

I examined his work. "Perfect. Now place your right hand on the string. Your index finger goes above the end of the arrow and your middle finger goes just below the arrow." He felt the string for the right place. "That way, your fingers are pinching the end of the arrow while the pads of your fingers are able to pull back the string."

He found the right spot and easily got his fingers into place. "Now what?"

"You're going to aim the bow at the post," I waited to continue until he'd done it. "Okay. Then, pull back the string and do your best to point to tip of the arrow at the apple." He pulled back the bow. I could tell he was concentrating hard, trying to get this right. I walked around him to his right side. I put my hand on his elbow and gently lowered it, so it was more equal with his chin. I removed my hand and then stepped back. "When you're ready…let go."

A few more seconds went by…and then he let it fly. The apple rolled off the post as I heard the arrow slid on the concrete floor. He lowered the bow. "How'd I do?"

I walked down to the apple and picked it up. "You nicked it."

"You sound surprised," he smiled. I walked back to him as I rolled my eyes.

"No," I sighed. "For someone who can't _actually_ see and has never fired anything in their life…that was more than good, even though you didn't hit it. Most beginners who _can_ see don't do that good. Wanna go again?" I smiled.

He chuckled and then nodded, "Yeah."

I gave him another arrow and then walked back down to the post. I sat the apple on top of it and then walked back. I stood a few feet away from him. I didn't say anything, just let him do it. He fumbled with the arrow a second but quickly recovered. He raised the bow and pulled back the string. He took twice as long to aim this time. I focused my attention on the apple. I heard the arrow whizz by and then saw the apple tumble.

I walked down to the post and picked up the apple. The arrow was lodged in the center of it. "That was really good. Now, how about you try something with some power?" I walked over to the table in the corner. I picked up my folded down bow in its holster and then walked up to Matt. "Okay." I took the wimpy bow from him and sat it on the ground.

"This is the bow I use out in the field." I slid it out of the holster and then put it in his hand. He felt it, looking at me questioningly. I smiled, positioning it correctly in his left hand. "Hold it up in front of you and then thrust it forward, like you were punching someone." He smiled and then did as I said. The bow quickly expanded into its full size. "The same rules apply. But this one has a harder pull, so you might find it harder to pull back the string."

He nodded and then readied an arrow. His movements were still stiff, but I could tell he was getting the hang of it. I think he likes it more than he'd ever admit. The real test would be using it in a life or death setting. Of course, an apple is one thing…a person is totally different. I'm not so sure he'd shoot a person.

While he did that, I walked down to the post and sat another apple on top of it. I walked back and stood next to him. He looked ready. Matt raised the bow and began pulling back the string. He slightly struggled with it at first. I think the pull caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered.

Once the string was fully back, he aimed. About thirty seconds later he released the string. The arrow shot forward, lodging itself into the top of the post. I shrugged. "Not bad." He let out an airy chuckle and lowered the bow. He turned toward me and I knew something was bothering him. And I don't think it's that he missed.

He walks up to me and hands me the bow. I take it and fold it down, then slide it into its holster. I sat it on the table before walking down to the post. "Say it."

"What?" he asked.

"Whatever conversation is playing out in your head." I grabbed the arrow and the apple and then turned around. Matt sighed, placing his hands on his hips. I raised an eyebrow. My mind went nuts trying to figure out what this is about. It looks like I'm about to get a lecture, but I'm not sure why. I slowly walk back, setting the arrow and apple on the table.

"Mary said you didn't come home last night," he blurted, sounding concerned.

I stood a couple feet away from him. "Yeah, the mission…didn't go as planned."

"Is that why you're hurt?"

I glanced down at the bulge from the bandage in the sleeve of my left arm. I should've known he'd know I was hurt. "Yeah, it is," I sighed. "I just haven't really had the chance to tell you." He opened his mouth to protest. "But, it's nothing. Really, Matt."

"Nothing? You were gone all night, no one knew where you were, and then you came back hurt. That doesn't sound like nothing to me."

"Okay. Fine. But you knew, going into this, that there might be times when I _couldn't_ tell anyone where I was _and_ that I might get hurt. But whether I'm with S.H.I.E.L.D. or with you on the streets, there's a chance I could get hurt."

"I know, just-" he stopped and sighed. "I just want you safe," he said softly. "I want you to be safe. I don't like not knowing whether you're okay or not. And, I have no idea who these people are that are supposed to have your back."

"If you did know them, would that help?"

He bit his lip and then shook his head. "Probably not." There was a long pause between us. "What happened out there, anyway?"

"Well…a lot. But, uh, a lot's happened since we talked S.H.I.E.L.D. last. I've been going on an undercover mission with Agent Hunter. As you know, I've been trying to help Coulson and his team find Ward. But, long story short, Ward hurt the woman Hunter loves. Now Hunter wants revenge, and he doesn't care who gets hurt along the way." I sighed. "We were trying to get into Hydra-"

"I thought you said they were bad."

"And they are. Way worse than Fisk could ever be. But, Ward is now running Hydra. So…Hunter was going to go in alone, but May and I knew that was stupid. So I did something even more stupid and went with him. We…proved ourselves and then Hydra accepted us. We finally got close to Ward, though Hunter blew it." I crossed my arms, leaning my butt into the table. "We were at a standoff. Ward said he'd kill May's ex-husband if we didn't drop our guns."

I glanced up at him. He was waiting for my next words, to see how this story ended. "Hunter went after Ward," I said, disappointment in my voice. "I'm still waiting on word about May's ex. He's probably dead. But Ward got away, so now we're back to square one." I sighed, blowing out all the air in my lungs. "It was a stressful night. I didn't even get back to Hell's Kitchen until ten this morning. But, you're right, I should've told you guys I was back and that I was okay. I mean…kind of okay."

He gestured toward my injured arm with his hand. "Are you okay?" It was hard to make out his tone. It was a mixture of 'I should've asked this sooner', 'I shouldn't have just blown up about it', and 'I'm sorry you had a bad night and someone might be dead because of it'. It could be any one of those.

I give up trying to pick one and nod. "Yeah. It's just a bullet graze. More like road rash," I replied. He nodded, and we both went quiet again. The silence lingered longer than last time. "I never planned on getting roped back into S.H.I.E.L.D. I thought those days were done."

"You don't have to explain it to me. You've told me the kind of friend Coulson is to you. And, he needed your help." He shrugged, dropping his arms loosely at his side. "So you helped him. I remember you telling me that you were going to help the friend, not the organization."

"And, I am, but-" I stopped and thought.

"But, what?"

"This thing…with Ward. It's taken a lot more time than I thought it was. It's pretty much all I'm doing, these days." I stood and crossed my arms. "There's no time for my business, to watch Lizzie when needed, to sub in for Alison at the café, for my tenets and the repairs they need done…" I sighed in frustration. "And there's no time for you, for us. And, forget about Angel. When was the last time I put on the suit? Like three weeks ago. And that's not right, it's not fair to you for me to just up and leave."

"Don't worry about me," he shook his head. "I can handle the city on my own. It'll be here when you get back. So will I."

"That's the thing, Matt. It shouldn't _have_ to wait, and neither should you."

"But, it will. _We_ will." He took a few steps closer. " _I_ will. I'll be here when you stop Ward."

"And what if I never do? What if he's just always going to be out there somewhere? Like Santa, waiting to creep into your house when you're sleeping."

He chuckled. "I don't know. But, whatever happens, I'll still be here. Who knows, maybe one day I'll join you?"

I laughed. "Yeah, right. You'd most definitely have to tell them who you are. I know of four of them who'd find out anyway."

"Well, if that's what it takes for us to be together…then I'd tell them who I was," he said. I stared at him blankly, almost flabbergasted. He simply looked at me reassuringly. "Whatever it takes to keep us together. To keep _this_ together."

I dropped my head and then closed my eyes. I needed to hear that. He has no idea just how _badly_ I needed that. I nodded and looked back up at him. "I'm going to tell Coulson I'm done. They can find Ward without me. He's not immortal, one day he'll die."

"Are you sure that's what you want to do? I know how you get when you don't see something through."

"No, I'm done. Coulson will understand." I nodded to myself. "Actually, he's coming by later; I'll tell him then." Matt wrapped his arms around me and I quickly returned the hug. I buried my face in the crook of his neck and sighed. More relieved, actually. This whole thing's been crazy. "I really wanted to help Coulson stop Ward, but…me going back to S.H.I.E.L.D. has done nothing but create reasons for me to lie to you. And I plan on keeping my promise."

"Me, too," he said. "No more lies. Those days are done."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sniffled hard and wiped at my cheek. You'd think after six months I would be able to actually process exactly what happened. I blamed it on the cold morning. It was just the weather. _Right, keep telling yourself that, Alison. It wasn't because you killed someone you loved_. It's the weather. _Well, the sun was starting to really make things warm so you're running out of excuses_. James's headstone was one of the newest looking headstones in the whole cemetery.

Fisk had paid for the funeral just before his arrest. If he hadn't, the truth is I probably would have. I sat on my knees just at the end of the still-new dirt atop his grave. I'd been trying to get up the courage to open his letter for almost an hour. A night or two after James was found, Fisk came to my apartment and gave me something from Wesley. A plain envelope.

Inside was an official bank statement signing over an offshore account to me, along with a neatly folded piece of weathered paper with my name on it. I don't care about the money. It's just one more reminder that he shouldn't be six feet underneath my feet right now. How long had it taken him to set aside so much money? I only briefly looked at the balance but it was well past the thousands.

It was too much but apparently it was to take care of me and send Chase to college. My chest was starting to ache and my skin itched, begging me to just rip off the band aid. So I slid my finger under the folded paper's edge and flipped it open, exposing its black ink-soaked letters. I took in a deep breath and slowly let it out.

 _Dear Alison,_

 _I know that nothing I could say to you would ever make right what I've done to you, the trouble I've caused. But I've set aside funds so that at least I could make your life easier from now forward. Because, if you're reading this, then I'm dead. It was a contingency plan—just in case I couldn't tell you the truth before something happened to me. Words cannot express the regret and guilt I've felt every day since that night all those years ago._

 _It was never what I wanted. Hurting you was never what I wanted. And yet, that's all I've done with my life. I wanted you to know that any good thing I did, anything worth noting in my life happened because of you. You were the one thing that made me strive to be better. You made me want to be a good person. I can't thank you enough for that, Alison. You will never know just what you meant to me._

 _I want you to know that however my death occurred, my last thought was of you. My last thought was of our son and all the moments I'd missed in both of your lives. All the birthdays, all the Christmases, all the 'bring your kid to work' days, all the straight A report cards and the front page articles. It's something I thought about every day. There wasn't one minute of my life that didn't have you in it. You were my best four years._

 _I will forever regret not being there for you. I will regret many things, and I will suffer whatever consequences come from them because I take no pleasure in this life. Who knows—maybe one of my regrets is the reason you're reading this? All I want now is for you to find peace after what I've put you through. I can't imagine that you're even sad I'm dead. But that's okay, as long as you're happy and you're safe._

 _This is already almost too long to fit in the envelope so I'll cut this short. I'm deeply, truly sorry for everything that I have ever done. I know there's no way right now that you could possibly forgive me. But, when you're ready, please try. Know that I miss you—I missed you every day. And, Alison…please know that I love you. You were my first and only real love and I can't thank you enough for giving me that._

 _Sincerely,  
James Wesley_

By the end I was in tears and inwardly cursing myself for reading it in the first place. It was the worst idea in the history of worst ideas. I dropped my hands in my lap and looked up at the headstone through the blurry lens of water. "Why couldn't you just hate me?" I spat, raising my voice with each word, frustrated. "Why couldn't you have just left me alone and been done with it, huh? Why…why didn't you stop, James?"

A sob slipped out and I covered my mouth with my wrist, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. This was probably a sign that I waited too long to come here. But Father Lantom only told me that the best way to process grief is to face it head on, last week. I only got inspired to actually follow through with it last night. So I didn't really give myself much of a grief allowance for those six months since it happened. Better late than never, I guess?

Maybe if you're someone like Dani. Bullets hit her and they seem to just bounce right off. That doesn't work with me. If someone shoots me, I'm going down—hard. There's only so long I can act like I'm not on my last legs before I have to just say enough and turn into an ugly cry baby. There's probably not a For Dummies guide book for this either. I sniffled back a wave I felt preparing to flush out and folded the paper back into the envelope.

Standing, I shoved it into my jacket pocket and wipe my cheeks as dry as I could manage. I probably shouldn't leave here without saying something nice. Speaking ill of the dead was never nice. But I had to get that one burst of rage out. God will understand, won't he? If he even cares. Who knows, maybe James went to Hell for being an evil henchmen and God washed his hands of him years ago.

I would never get an answer on that one either, most likely. I moved over closer to the headstone and pressed my lips to my fingers, then touched my fingers to the cool stone. A silent goodbye. A silent _I'm sorry for murdering you_.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I sat on the couch, leaning back. Little Lizzie stood on the tops of my legs. She had a hand wrapped around one of my fingers on each side of her for support. She wobbled back and forth like an earthquake as she looked around the room. She looked back at me and smiled, a large string of drool dangling from the corner of her mouth. I put a hand on her side and then reached for a tissue.

I started mopping up her face as the front door opened. Coulson walked in, closing the door behind him. "I see you're busy."

"Always," I said, bobbing Lizzie. She put her fist into her mouth and then started making gnawing sounds. "I'm glad you came. We need to talk."

"Agreed," he said. I motioned for him to sit next to me on the couch, and he did. "I want you off this case." My mouth slightly dropped open. I wasn't expecting that. I was the one who was supposed to leave, not the other way around.

"Okay…?" I turned back to Lizzie. "Well, as usual, you beat me to it. I was going to tell you I couldn't help anymore."

"And, I'm sure, for a different reason. But, it's getting too dangerous. Ward's now gone after the loved ones of two of my agents. I don't want a third."

"He has no idea where I am."

"He knows you're in New York. That's enough. If he wants you, he'll find you. I'm not taking that chance," he said. The front door opened and Matt walked in, his walking stick leading the way. I'd told him that if he was coming over when Coulson was here, he needed to act blind. I specifically said no funny business.

Coulson glanced up at Matt as he walked in. "Hey," I said. "Phil, this is Matt."

"Well, it's nice to know your boyfriend has a face," Coulson said.

"Funny." I sighed, standing with Lizzie. I walked over to the play pen and then lowered her inside of it. "Well, there hasn't exactly been a chance for you two to meet." I turned around and faced them. Matt offered his hand, playing the blind thing and slightly pointing it in the wrong direction. I rolled my eyes and walked up to them as they shook hands.

"It's nice to finally meet you, too," Matt said. I stood close to him, wrapping my arms around one of his.

"Likewise," Coulson nodded. "I heard about how your law firm took down Fisk. Well done. The world needs more people like you."

"Well, it was a group effort."

"So," I looked at Coulson. "What else did you want to talk about?" I could tell by the look on his face that he didn't, and wasn't going to, say anything else. "Its fine, Coulson. You can speak freely. He knows."

"Glad to know you're fine with breaking protocol."

I sighed and smiled. "We all know I'm not good with rules. So…what's being done to find Ward?"

"Well, since you're off the case, that's none of your concern," he replied. "But, we'll do everything we can. Ward's in the wind, but Hydra isn't. We'll find him."

"And Hunter?"

"He'll be properly handled. He was too emotionally invested in a mission he never should've been on."

"May did the best she could. You know Hunter would've gone without her backup."

"I know, and that's what scares me. That's one of the reasons why I want you far away from Ward. He has a way of getting to people."

"What about Dr. Garner?"

"Alive. Right now that's all I can be sure of."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll let you know when I find out," he smiled. I smiled back, knowing what he meant. Chase walked out of my office and to the couch. He plopped down and then sprawled out, half dangling off the couch. "I…" he said, "Am sooooo board." He looked up at us. He sat up and then stood, _really_ looking at us. Then he pointed at Coulson. "Who is he?"

Coulson nodded his way, looking at me. "One of yours?"

"Gosh, no!" I scoffed. "This is Chase Fletcher, a son of a friend. Long story."

"It usually is with you." He smiled. "I need to get back before May does something rash." He started moving for the door.

"Oh, like what? Killer Hunter? That's what I'd do."

"I know. So would May." He opened the door and then turned back. "Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

"You, too." I smiled as he left. I whirled around to face Matt. "How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

"That's what I thought," I sighed. Matt looked like he finally understood what kind of a threat Ward was. I sighed, again, looking at Chase. "Can we go now?" he whined.

"Yeah," I said. He ran to the coat rack, grinning from ear to ear. I looked back at Matt. "Mary should be here in a half hour. I don't think Lizzie will give you too much trouble."

"She never does." He folded his walking stick and then placed it on the table on his way to the play pen. Lizzie was latched onto the side of it, holding herself up, as he reached in to pick her up. I ran back into my bed room and changed. I came back out a few minutes later dressed like a hooker. "We won't be gone long," I said. "If Alison asks, we're here. We never left." I walked up to Matt and kissed him on the cheek. I'm so glad he can't see me right now.

He chuckled. "I know." Chase and I hurried out the door. We made our way out of the building and to my car. We drove for about ten minutes before parking. I turned off the car and sat back. I looked up in the review mirror at Chase in the back. "You remember the rules?"

"Sip my milkshake by myself, while taking pictures of some guys touching you," he nodded.

"Well, why'd you have to say it like that?" I scoffed. "No, look. This chick wants me to see how long it takes and what I have to say to get her husband to want me. She needs proof that he's cheating on her. That's where you come in. Get the pic of him making his move, and then sweep in and save me before it goes too far. Okay?"

"Yeah, I got it. Does our deal still stand?" He's got a cheesy grin on his face.

I sighed and nodded. "Yeah. You get the pic and your mother NEVER finds out, and you get your money."

"I want double."

"Chase-"

"Most kids would be scared for their life doing this. And, no mother would ever let their son-"

"Chase, what are you talking about?"

"I'm just saying," he shrugged. "If Mom ever found out…"

"Are you blackmailing me? Am I really getting blackmailed by an eleven year old?"

"Hey…I learned from you."

I glared at him and then sighed. "Yes, you did. Fine. Do this, and a crisp fifty dollar bill is headed your way."

"Deal."

"Good. Come on." We both got out of the car and then walked across the street. This diner is known for its prostitutes and the hard working men who pay them. Most of the women have children (big shocker) and they bring them with. The kids sit at a table coloring while their mothers 'go to work'. It's sickening to think that they think that's the only way to make money.

We walk in and I usher Chase off into the corner, to a table. He'll be playing the role of my delinquent son, Freddy. I slip off my coat, revealing more skin than I'd like to. I rest it on the back of the chair and then head up to the counter. I sat on the far stool, near the back, and ordered a drink. I glance over at Chase. He's got out his Nintendo. One of the ones that takes pictures.

About twenty minutes later, our target arrives. Mr. Paul Chapman. Happily married for nine and half years. Right about the time when people start rethinking their choice of spouse. He has two kids that we know of. One's married in Wyoming and the other's single in Utah. He even has a grandbaby on the way. I hope he's not dirty. But they usually are.

I give five minutes before working my way up to him. I walk around the back of him and to the seat closest to the door. I sit down next to him without saying a word. I finish the last of my drink and then turn to him. "What's _your_ name?" I said it as smooth and flirtatious as I could. I tried to act as interested as possible.

He looked up at me and smiled. "Depends," he said. "What's yours?" He brought his drink up to his mouth, and suddenly his ring's not on his finger. I inwardly sigh. Are there no good men left in the world? "Faith," I said. "What are you doing later?"

"Depends on what you're doing right now." He turned toward me in his stool. Our knees bump as he inches closer. I had spoken to the bar tender earlier. He said Paul was a regular and practically keeps the prostitution industry going, in this part of town. And now I have proof. That was way too easy to turn him on. He doesn't even try to hide it.

I was tuning out what he was saying, as his hand worked its way up my leg. It reached the hem of my dress as Chase appeared behind the guy. He quite obviously took the guys wallet. Even fighting to get it out of his pocket. The guy whipped around. "What are you doing?" he asked. Chase stared at him innocently, holding the guys wallet.

"Oh, my goodness," I said, completely mortified. I hopped off the stool and took a step closer to Chase. I ripped the wallet out of his hand. "What is the matter with you? Do you realize what'll happen if you get caught again?" I turned and gave the man back his wallet. "I'm so sorry, he knows better."

I turned back to Chase before the guy could reply. "Freddy, this was your last warning. One more and you're going to the big house."

"Not the big house!" Chase played along.

"Oh, yes! I warned you, didn't I? If this man were to press charges, you would be locked away in Alcatraz for the next five years. Do you want that?"

"No, Ma'am," he shook his head. Even looking a little teary eyed. I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. "Well, that's what you're going to get!" I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I might just take you there myself!" I threw the door open and then pushed Chase through it.

We got outside and then walked across the street. "That was better than last time," he laughed. I sighed as he tossed me the car keys.

"Yeah, it was. Did you get it?"

"Duh. Now pay up!"


	4. AKA Bang

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

 _Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, and we wouldn't have to wait so long? And wouldn't it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong?_

The jukebox echoed _Wouldn't it Be Nice_ by The Beach Boys across the café a bit after the morning rush. I'd say about eighty percent of customers gave their praise of the jukebox addition. Most others didn't seem to mind whether it was in or out. I glanced left. Mr. Grumpy was in his usual seat by the front, eyeing the street through the window. I sighed and finished wiping off a table, then headed to the counter.

It wasn't too incredibly slow. We were actually quite full up at the inn, though I think most people just wanted out of the heat. They bought the occasional drink or snack item but that was where today's afternoon/lunch sales began and ended. I tightened my ponytail holder as I arrived at the register and Mary shuffled over to me from the hot plate. She leaned into the empty counter beside me with an exhale. "It's so hot outside. I took out the trash and almost died," she puffed, overheated.

"Stand in front of the AC for a minute," I suggested, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "It'll cool you off. Take a break, yeah? You've been working hard all morning."

She stood upright. "Just earning my wages, boss."

"Well, I think you need a raise," I chuckled.

She widened her eyes a millisecond, like she wholeheartedly agreed, and left the counter to find an empty table. Just then, the bell of the door chimed and I glanced up. A tall woman in heels with a ginger ponytail effortlessly strutted across the Café and stepped up to the counter. "Good afternoon, welcome to Angel's. What can I get you?" I asked, plastering on my business smile.

She smiled back, clean and precise. "Good afternoon. I need two large Caramel Macchiatos to-go, please."

"Alright…would you like foam and syrup on those?" I asked, scribbling it on my scratch pad.

"Yes, please," she glanced around. "Is this place new? I haven't really been around this part of town before."

I tore off the note and sat it in front of the cash register, turned back to the woman and nodded. "Yeah, we just opened a few months ago."

"Oh, well, it looks great," she complimented, politely.

I nodded with a small smile. "Thank you. Oh, what's the name for the order?"

"Potts, P-O-T-T-S," she said, spelling it out. I wrote it down on the note and hurried over to the coffee machine. I was getting better at more exotic coffees, but they could still use some improving. Is there like a coffee makers and baristas of America union of some kind? There really should be.

I filled the two to-go cups and topped off with the foam and drizzled syrup, then hoofed the drinks to the front counter. "Potts?" I called. The ginger haired woman was over at the jukebox looking around when I finished. She snapped to attention as soon as I'd spoken and hustled over to the counter. "Here you are, and that'll be seven dollars even."

She reached into her purse with a thoughtful expression. "Wow, that's actually cheaper than Starbucks," she commented. And then she joked, "Should I be scared?"

I chuckled. "Not usually."

She laughed a little too as she finally unearthed her bill fold. Her fingers sifted a second, and then she pulled out a newer-looking ten dollar bill and held it out to me. "Keep the change," she said, as I took the ten. She picked up the drinks and I paused. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's no problem," she smiled.

"Alright, thank you. Have a nice day—enjoy the coffees."

"And you as well, thank you." She nodded once politely, before bustling right back out of the Café, just as fast and as elegant as she'd come in. Typical business woman in a rush. I blew a puff of air through my lips and wrote down the sale on my notepad. I've been keep track on paper all day. I can make credit card transactions but I can't take cash until the register gets debugged. And that could take a while.

To keep myself busy in the dull foot traffic, I start stacking clean mugs and glasses into the cupboards. A bit absentmindedly I twisted to glance over my right shoulder toward the front. Just as I expected, Mr. Grumpy was still there. Wow I really need something else to call this guy. Nothing really fit that I could think of at the time. Suddenly the bell above the door jingled.

"Excuse me?" I glanced up. My jaw nearly hit the floor but, somehow, I just barely managed to keep it together. Tony Stark stood just inside my Café. He held up a to-go cup from Angel's. "Who made this?" he was looking directly at me. It's not like I could pretend that he didn't see me. Great. I inhaled and turned around fully, raising my hand. "That would be me," I answered, calmly as possible.

He started for the counter and I inwardly braced myself. "This is the best coffee I have ever tasted," he said, matter-of-fact. I let go of the breath I was holding.

I smiled politely with a nod of thanks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Enjoyed it? This is amazing, and you only charge three fifty," he pointed out, like it was absurd. "Let me shake your hand. Tony Stark." He held out his hand and I didn't hesitate to shake it. I felt like some star struck kid who just saw their favorite band play live and in concert. If I was, I'd have the pre-sale album, the tour t-shirt, and the backstage wristband. "Alison Fletcher," I replied.

" _Fletcher_ …you wrote that article about vigilantes, right?" he asked, one eye narrowing in thought.

I nodded. "Yes, I wrote a couple of them actually."

"I read them—great writing. Why the interest in, uh, superheroes anyway?" He gestured around a bit with his sunglasses, acting in a confidence that could easily be mistaken for jittery anxiousness common with antisocials. My guess is he's asking because he is one. Does he think I don't watch the news? I wrote an article for the Bugle on him when he said he was Iron Man at a press conference years ago.

I smiled, closed-mouthed. "My son mostly. He's a big fan of The Avengers."

"Really? Who's his favorite?" It seemed like a loaded question. I knew he was waiting for me to say it was him but, if I was being completely honest, I would have to break his rich boy heart by telling him that it was Captain America. Just then, the bell at the door jingled just before the ginger haired woman from earlier hurried up beside Tony with a heavy sigh. "Tony, we're going to be late," she warned, sounding stressed.

He turned to her. "I'm talking to this wonderful woman right now."

"I can see that, but we have to go," she insisted.

He sighed, annoyed. "Fine, were going. See? We're going."

He started around her to the door and she flashed me a round-eyed, stressed and stretched thin look before following after him. She kept a hand on his back to make sure he would keep walking. Even so, he turned while he was still moving and held up the to-go cup he had. "Thanks again for the coffee."

"Anytime! Have a nice day," I replied, just before they exited the building completely. It was an extremely random encounter, and I briefly wondered why he was even in Hell's Kitchen. But then Mary came back behind the counter, pulling her hair up into a hair tie, and she looked a bit bewildered. "Are my eyes deceiving me or did you just talk to Tony Stark?" she asked, in disbelief.

"I just talked to Tony Stark," I nodded once.

She smiled. "Think you'll get super famous?"

"Fingers crossed." I crossed my fingers and held them up with a mock hopeful expression and we both laughed. The day went on in its usual easy pace. For a while it picked up about an hour before closing but, other than that, it stayed fairly decent. Mary worked on cleaning up behind the counter while I rounded up various used dishes around the dining area. It didn't go unnoticed that Mr. Grumpy remained at his table pretty much all day.

And even now that we're cleaning up to shut it down, he's still there. I set my plastic tub of dirty dishes on an empty table. Exhaling, I walked across the dining area to his table. "What are you still doing here?" I asked, lightly, stepping up beside the table.

He glanced up, just enough to see his eyes. "Do you have a minute? I'd like to talk to you."

"Talk?" I loosely crossed my arms and twisted, looking at Mary in the kitchen. She wasn't really paying attention. I turned back toward the table. "About what?" I sidestepped and dropped into the chair opposite him. His eyes followed me as I did. Something was obviously on his mind. "I have a story—and I want you to write it," he replied.

One eyebrow propped up as I leaned back in my chair. "I'm retired. Why not go to someone else?"

"Because someone else didn't write about the Angel of Hell's Kitchen and The Man in the Mask," he answered, simply, resting his forearms on the table. He was slightly leaned in, like it was some big secret he was divulging. "Point taken," I nodded once. "What's the story?"

He sat back. "Mine."

"A story about you? Did you win the lottery?"

"My family was murdered," that shut me up pretty quickly. "There was a shooting at the park—my wife, my son, and my daughter were killed." I paused, trying to think back. Did I hear about any shootings? It didn't ring a bell. I sat up in my chair. "Why wasn't it on the news?" I asked, curiously.

He started shaking his head. "I don't know. But no one knows what happened; no one knows what _really_ happened. It's just getting swept under the rug and the piece of scum that killed them is still running around. I need you to tell people the truth about me—about everything."

"Wait—the truth about _you_?"

"I've done some things…things people won't understand," he answered, calmly. As he spoke, I couldn't move my eyes from his face. It was so familiar. I'd only seen the whole thing at once a couple of times, but I knew that face. Suddenly it hit me and I felt like I couldn't breathe. _Frank_. It took all my will power to act like I was fine. In all honesty I was not. I knew this man—I'd met this man!

He came to the Café six months ago, around when we first opened, with his…oh… _oh_. Two kids and a wife. He was with two kids and a wife that day and one of the kids said they were going to the park. My stomach was twisting into knots thinking about it. I'd missed most of what he said, but I tried to pretend I didn't.

"So you want the truth to come out about what happened to your family because no one cares about it," I summarized, looping myself back into the conversation. "And you're hoping I'll be willing to stick my neck out there to do it even though I'm in journalism retirement."

He eyed me a moment, silently. It was like he was scanning for something. For a second I almost thought he'd found it, and he knew that I'd recognized him. But then he sat back again with a small sigh. "Will you write the story?" he asked, an undertone of tiredness to his tone. When was the last time this guy slept? I hope he didn't think I was stupid enough not to notice the light purple tone to his under eyes.

Maybe he was insane. He probably escaped from some prison, where he was serving a sentence for something unfathomably horrible. His eyes refused to leave mine. It was almost like he was trying to read what I was about to say and, judging by the look on his face, he was leaning toward me saying no. Frankly, I was leaning that way as well. Against my better judgment, I said otherwise.

I leaned my crossed forearms into the table top. "Let me look into it, dig around. I'll see what I can find but I make no promises."

"Thank you, ma'am," he nodded once.

My eyes narrowed just slightly—my natural reaction to most odd things these days—but I stood and let my arms fall to my sides. I sighed through my nose and put a hand on the edge of his shoulder. "Get some sleep, yeah?" I didn't wait for a response to head back to the counter. This whole situation made me tired. I wish I would just go to Dani's and talk her ear off about it all but something in my gut told me I should keep this to myself.

Best keep it in house until I know the details. Then I can keep Dani up 'till all hours gabbing about it. I grabbed my note pad at the front counter and started reading through it to make sure I'd kept the right notes. The bell above the door chimed and my eyes glanced up. Mr. Grumpy was leaving. He held the door open as he turned toward the counter. "Goodnight. Thank you for your time," he said, before slipping out.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I walked into the law firm. Full of sweaty old people. Wonderful. Gotta love the smell of sweat and depression in the morning. It sounded like Karen was giving the morning briefing. "Um, and, uh, Miss Jacinto's working papers have been denied for the third time," Karen said. "Her father's gone and she says that factory work is the only way she can support her family."

"Well, tell her not to worry," Matt said.

"Yeah, I've already pulled her applications from the DOE."

"Good, because we're gonna find her something better."

"And that's just the appointments for the first hour," Karen said, way too enthusiastically. "You wanna talk about our 10ams?"

"Dylan," I looked up at Foggy and he was smiling. "Come on. Took you long enough."

"Yeah," I sighed. I followed them into Matt's office. Karen closed the door behind us. "Sorry, about that. I was in jail." Everyone instantly looked concerned. Matt put his hands on his hips, clearly not happy. Though I think he was a little more concerned. Karen instantly piped up, "What happened?"

"You need a lawyer?" Foggy joked.

I smiled. "Uh, not this time." I turned to face the group. "A client came in to my office last night. Or rather, broke in. He said he needed help, so I humored him and listened to his story. He then proceeded to tell me, in grave detail, about how he murdered someone. His wife's boyfriend, to be exact."

"Oh, my goodness," Karen covered her mouth. The others looked just as shocked. "Yeah, I know," I said. "I asked him why he did it and he said quote, 'That expletive racial expletive had it maternal expletive coming'. Anyway…the cops showed up, he went nuts. We ended up in a fist fight, and for some reason they arrested me. But I think that was just for my safety…?"

"Why? You look pretty-" Foggy started saying. But I removed the paper thin scarf I was wearing, revealing the large bruise the guy's hands left. Foggy's expression quickly changed. "Oh."

"Yeah." I put the scarf back on and then sighed. I glanced over at Matt. He was livid. I looked at Karen. "So, how's business?"

She caught the cue and then started talking. "Uh, so, I installed this free trial of accounting software on my computer. And the good news is that I can re-up it every thirty days with a fake email address. But um…the bad news is that…we're broke." Yeah, that's the perfect way to get their minds off of my jail episode.

"As in, literally no money. And our income can't cover our bills," she continued.

Matt shrugged. "We'll manage. I don't know how, but we will." Foggy smiled, happy with that answer. So was Karen. "So," Foggy said. "Shall we get started?" Karen left the room and walked out to the front desk.

"Actually…" Matt glanced at me. I sighed and then looked up at Foggy. He nodded, "Sure. Take as much time as you need." He left the room, closing the door behind him. A few moments of silence passed between us. "Matt-"

"Is that why you didn't come out, last night?" he asked. I nodded. He sighed, placing his hands on his hips again. "Are you okay?"

"Just some bruising on my neck, that's all. I broke his nose and a few ribs." I walked closer to him, closing the space between us. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he returned the hug. "I had it handled. This guy was nothing, okay?" I felt him nod. I pulled back and looked at him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he said. I kissed him. He instantly kissed me back. I pulled away, hovering my face near his. "I have to go," I said. "See you tonight?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Hey…cheer up, dude." I pulled back and looked at him straight on. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he smiled. I quickly left the law firm and then headed to Dylan Investigations. I walked in the front door just as Mary was speeding out for work. She was VERY rattled by that guy breaking in, but insisted on going to work. She thinks Alison can't handle her own café alone. Though she may be right, Alison would understand.

I quickly got to work, jumping right into my first client meeting. We discussed the mission Chase and I went on last night. I left Chase out, of course. But at least she knows now what kind of man her husband is. She left, another paying customer. I slipped her check into the safe as the next one came in.

Like Nelson and Murdock, Dylan Investigations has become the number one place people go to. Both businesses were mentioned in Alison's last article as having 'taken down Fisk'. Now everyone wants us. It'd be better if I had more of me. But I don't. So things are busy.

Like this guy. _Mr. Wyman_. He wants to find his son. The cliff notes for the last hour of conversation are: his son, Mark, was on a camping trip nine months ago. He claims his son came back different. And then two months later, he vanished from the face of the earth. I had him write down the usual information and drop it at the front desk on his way out.

My twelve thirty came in sobbing, with another missing person's case. Though this one's different. Mrs. Sun wants me to find the daughter she gave up for adoption almost forty years ago. Only once before have I tried a case like this and that one didn't end well. But she was very adamant. I told her I'd try and she lit up like the Fourth of July.

My two o'clock cancelled on me so I was able to breathe. I sighed and then leaned back in my chair. I heard Chase's footsteps and sat up. "What else we got?" I asked. He looked down at his paper on the clipboard in his hands. He's my temp receptionist, since he doesn't have a life.

"You don't have another appointment until four," he said. Then he looked up at me. "But you have a walk in." I groaned. "She says she knows you…?"

"What's the name?"

"Jones…?"

I got up out of my chair and walked past Chase into the main room. I almost couldn't believe my eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Crummy place you got here, Dylan," Jessica said, turning to face me.

"You're the one to talk."

"And what's with the pipsqueak behind the desk? He yours?"

"No!" I scoffed and walked up to her. "You know I don't have kids. But, what are you doing here?"

"I came to tell you, in person, to stop sending people to me."

"You came all this way, for that?"

"Yes. Since my phone calls aren't doing any good." She sighed, annoyed. The standard emotion for everything in life. She walked over to the couch and sat down. I sighed, knowing there was something on her mind. I walked to the couch and sat down next to her. "What?"

She glanced at me, and then looked away. She rolled her eyes and then reached into her pocket. "I wasn't going to say anything…but Trish convinced me otherwise." She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and gave it to me. I took it from her and unfolded it. "Your dad's looking for you."

The paper she handed me was a letter that he'd sent to her PI business: Alias Investigations. I rested my elbows on my knees, having a hard time getting past the fact that I knew this was his hand writing. How'd he know I was I New York? "I haven't spoken to him in…fifteen, twenty years." I gave her back the letter. "Why now?"

"He fed me a line about how he lost touch with you when your parents got a divorce and now he wants to reconnect," she mocked. "He said it was very important that he find you."

"What'd you tell him?"

"That he's already in Hell's Kitchen. Might as well go the rest of the way."

"Jessica."

"Don't worry, I didn't say that…exactly. I told him I would look in to it, but that if I found her and she didn't want to see him, I didn't have to tell him where she was. He seemed fine with that. At the time. But he's been tailing me for the last three days."

"He knows you know."

"Yep. He wants you bad. Any chance you'll reconsider?"

"Any chance you'll reconsider breaking Kilgrave's neck?" I asked. She nodded, thinking. She stood, tucking away the paper. "Good point," she said. Chase walked up to her, a confused look on his face.

"Who are you supposed to be?" he asked.

She looked at him weird. "I'm Jessica Jones." She turned and looked at me. "I don't know what you want to do with that information, Dani. If I were you, I'd skip town. Start over somewhere new."

"Yeah, me too," I said. "Thanks for the heads up." She then turned and left.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The cue ball slammed right into the cluster of striped balls, sending them all scattering, and leaving at last two deathly close to one of the corner pockets. "That sounded like cheating," Matt said, jokingly. "Foggy, I think we're being hustled."

Karen chuckled and moved to a different spot around the table, and Dani sighed. "Sure you're not just awful at pool?" she asked, rhetorically. She was leaning into her stick on the opposite side of the table as me. The odd lighting at Josie's always seemed to cast weird shadows on her face. "As sure as Josie's AC is busted," Foggy nodded. Just then, Josie hefted two pitchers of ice filled water to a shelf by our pool table. "What AC?" she commented, exhaling.

Karen sighed din relief. "At least she brought water." She reached for one of the pitchers and both Matt and Foggy made up a collective, "No!" She stepped back and raised her eyes at them questioningly. "You don't wanna drink that," Foggy warned.

Matt shook his head. "You can't drink the water here."

"Josie's pipes have… _issues_ ," Foggy further explained. "I think I can actually see the bacteria floating in there." Karen made a sound of disgust and flailed her hands, quickly moving away. Matt held up his drink. "See that…that's why we, uh, keep our cocktails neat," he said.

"Pretend you're abroad on vacation some place exotic," Foggy said, gesturing with his bear bottle. "But, no mojitos, Josie just throws mint in the beer. Take over, buddy. I gotta hit the head." He handed Matt his pool stick and headed off—thankfully. Dani sighed. "My turn," she bent down and leaned into position, aiming at the cue ball. "Striped ten, corner pocket."

"Are you serious? That's too far to the right," Karen pointed.

I smirked, reaching into my pocket. I slapped a twenty on the edge of the table. "She can make it," I assured. Karen smirked back in a challenging way and grabbed her purse. She added some money of her own to the pot. "Raise you by ten," she said, pointing a finger at me.

Dani scoffed. "You guys are ridiculous."

She adjusted a little, then hit the ball. The pure white ball spiraled into the solid six. The six shot to the right and clattered into the striped ten, shooting it into the wall and causing it to bounce off, straight into the corner pocket. Matt had a wide smile on his face and Karen nearly dropped a brick in her skirt. Her jaw was on the floor. "No way—now that? _That_ is cheating," she said, causing Matt to laugh.

I took the bills off the table and Dani stood upright, giving me a look. I shrugged. "What?" I asked, innocently. " _You're_ good at it, _I_ believe in you—it's easy money." She rolled her eyes and moved back to her original position. Karen sighed and grabbed her purse. "You guys have at it, and I will go buy another round." She held her thumbs up and then disappeared into the crowd, headed toward the bar. Dani positioned herself for another shot.

"Hey, Alison?" Matt's voice caught my attention.

I glanced up. "Hm?"

"There's a guy at the bar, looking this way. Does he look familiar to you?" he asked, in all seriousness. His voice was quiet, with a certain familiar edge to it. It almost put me on alert. But I casually looked over Matt's shoulder toward the bar. Sure enough there was a ratty looking guy occasionally taking careful glances at our group. He looked nervous, jittery—he couldn't stop tapping his foot. His general appearance didn't ring any bells.

I shook my head. "No. Why?"

"His adrenaline's high. His heart rate's out of control," he paused, tilting his head slightly. "There's something in his coat."

"He's wearing a coat? Then he's probably packing," Dani stood upright, looking over that way. Matt turned to head over and I quickly moved to grab his arm, stopping him. "Matt, no," I shook my head. "I don't think making a scene is the best idea for this."

"Half the people in Josie's have guns," Dani pointed out, thinking.

"Yeah, but none of them have their finger tapping the trigger," Matt replied. He tried to move again but I held him tighter. He looked at me and, this close, I could actually see his eyes through those extra dark red sunglasses. "Let me check it out before you go all kung fu panda, yeah?" He nodded slightly and I let him go before heading over to the bar. Karen passed me with shots and I stepped up next to the ratty looking guy.

I tried to act as natural as possible. "Are you new here?" I asked, glancing left just slightly.

"No, actually," he adjusted nervously.

I looked a little more his way. "That's fine, it's okay. This place is safe. It's a good place, with good people. There are a lot of other bars in town-"

"Look, it's not what you think. I got business here," he interjected. "With Nelson and Murdock. I saw you over there with them—you know 'em?"

I nodded, turning to face him. "Yeah, I do. They're good friends. You need a lawyer?"

"That's what I'm thinking," he nodded quickly. I tilted my head in the general direction of the group and he got the message, following me over to the others. Dani stepped up beside Matt as soon as she saw I was bringing him over. "This man needs a lawyer," I announced, stopping a foot in front of them. The guy stood just to my right. Just then, Foggy emerged from the bathroom and arrived back at our group.

He must've caught what I'd said, because he looked at Matt and Dani. "Well, then, let's talk," he bobbed his head, all too happy to have another client. "Let's sit down, shall we?" All of us found an empty table near the pool area and took a seat. The guy didn't waste any time getting to his story. Apparently there was some gathering of the Irish. And it would seem that all who showed up were shot literally to pieces.

"Fifteen men, tough Irish. Armed. All of them blown away. It was a massacre. We weren't hit by any rival family there, I'm telling you, we were…were hit by an army," he explained, slightly less nervous, but still on edge.

"That's quite the story you got there, Lone Survivor," Dani commented, with dead sarcasm.

"It's a fact," the guy corrected, calmly. "Don't believe me? Go see for yourself. Burren Club, 47th and 10th. Can't miss it, it's the…part of New York that looks like a war zone."

"What's your involvement in their organization?" Karen asked, sounding skeptical. The guy looked at Matt and Foggy a few times, eye brows raised. "Who is she?" he asked.

"Answer the question," I insisted.

"Brannigan. I've run with them for a long time—I don't deny it. Pick-ups, drop-offs, sometimes doing things I…shouldn't be," he answered. "No question, I'm no choir boy. I'm tellin' ya, I just skirt the surface. Unlike the men I work for and the guys that did this. I'm tellin' ya, I had nothing to do with that massacre." I glanced at Matt. He was listening closely. You could tell by the way he was slightly leaned in and the way his eyebrows crinkled just so.

After a second, he looked up, meeting my eyes. He nodded and I looked back at the guy. "If you're right and the Irish were hit by another large group then, if you're the only survivor, that's not going to make whoever did this very happy," I said, earning his attention. "So, what exactly can Nelson and Murdock do for you, mister…"

He noticed my run off and sat up a bit. "I'm Grotto."

"Grotto what?" Dani asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just Grotto. Witness protection. You guys need to get me out of here before I end up in the only place hotter than this permanent," he said, mostly looking at the table instead of up at us. Matt adjusted in his seat and exhaled. "We're a private law firm," Foggy said.

"Yeah, a trustworthy one," Grotto replied. "Quite a reputation after you took out Wilson Fisk."

"The DA's office is the only place that can make a deal," Dani reasoned. "We can't do that."

"Yeah, I'm not walking to the DA without representation," Grotto said, looking up at her. "I know a lot, I see a lot. I'll give the cops anything to get me out of Hell's Kitchen."

"Well, we have a reputation for representing the good people of Hell's Kitchen," Matt pointed out. "Not for negotiating on behalf of career criminals."

"What if a criminal wants to change his career? A second chance—that's all I want. I know I'm only coming to you on my word, I got nobody to vouch for me, I can barely cover your fee. But word is…that Nelson and Murdock put their faith in people. And I need a little of that right now," Grotto said. He leaned in a little. " _Please_."

Matt looked to Foggy and Foggy looked to Matt. Dani glanced between the two of them and I sat, watching quietly. Personally I believe the guy. Karen didn't seem like she knew which way she swung in the matter—frankly neither did Dani. But Matt gave a solid nod. "Lie low," Foggy nodded. "We'll look into it."

"You have somewhere you can stay?" Matt asked him. I noticed him passing out before the whole sentence was even said. Grotto collapsed, falling off the chair, and slammed into the floor. I quickly slid off my chair and hurried around Karen and Foggy's, kneeling beside him. Blood stained the side of his gray shirt. I checked for a pulse. It was weak, but steady. "Guys? He needs a hospital—he's bleeding."


	5. Adventures in Babysitting

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

Matt, Foggy, and I left Josie's and headed over to the place Grotto said looked like a war zone. And he wasn't kidding. I haven't seen anything this devastating since the battle of New York. We walked past a police car, following Foggy. He was searching for Mahoney. We walked out from behind an ambulance and I stopped. "Oh, my…" disgust laced my voice.

Matt stopped beside me. "Does it look as bad as I think?"

"Probably worse." I couldn't take my eyes off of it. The whole front of the building was full of nothing but bullets holes. It looks like someone blasted it with a machine gun, and the FULL nine yards. "Hey, Brett!" Foggy's voice broke me from my thoughts. "Guys, over here."

I turned to Matt, putting my hand on his arm. We quickly covered the distance between Foggy and us. "I would say it's good to see you, but under the circumstances…"

Mahoney looked more annoyed than anything. "Would you please step aside, sir?"

"We've got a couple of questions, Brett," Matt said.

"If you're here to case ambulances, you might notice there are none." His eyes shifted to me. Normal clothes, brown hair, this…amazing scar on my face. To the average person, no one would notice or think anything of it. But, Mahoney's not the average person. He knows I'm Angel, and so far has kept quiet. Let me run around town in a mask. He might just be waiting till he figures out who the other guy is. Good luck with that.

"Sergeant," I nodded. He gave me a knowing look, like he knew he'd regret helping us. But if I were him, I wouldn't let the people who did this get away because of some stupid protocol. "Any leads?" Foggy asked. Mahoney turned his gaze to Foggy.

"Read about it in the papers, like a normal person."

"I think we can agree," I said, "We're not normal people. You know I can help."

"You know I can't talk about an open crime scene. Those rules go double for you."

I scoffed and Foggy stepped in. "What if…hypothetically speaking…we may have recently acquired a new client that could help…shed some light on this investigation?" I sighed.

"How recent?" Mahoney asked.

"Farm fresh."

"Was he here?"

"Client privilege."

"Well, uh, Mr. Nelson, if that was true…"

"Hypothetically speaking."

"…I'd tell you that withholding your client from the NYPD would be obstructing governmental administration. And, I'd probably just arrest you myself. In theory."

"I guess we really can't help each other," Foggy said all cheery. I rolled my eyes. We're getting nowhere with this. Matt and I would've had better luck punching people on the street. Matt stepped forward. "It's over a hundred degrees out here tonight, Sergeant. Why would an Irish mobster wear body armor to a private meeting inside his own club?"

Mahoney thought for a minute. An officer walked by and he grabbed his arm. "Tell 'em keep it down in there or somebody's getting written up." The officer nodded and then was on his way. _Please_ , I scoffed to myself. Like them whispering while scraping what used to be people off the ground is going to help.

Mahoney turned back to Matt, an intense stare on his face. "I help you…you help me," he asked, glancing my way.

"That's all we want," Matt said.

"There's a total clamp down on any of this getting out to the press. I'd like to keep it that way."

"Brett…you can trust us."

"We're lawyers," Foggy smiled before jutting his thumb my way. "And, whatever she is."

Mahoney rolled his eyes. "Come with me." We walked several yards away from the crime scene, stopping next to a police van. "DA's going crazy trying to figure it out," he said as we all gathered in a circle. "This isn't the first hit that matches the MO. Call it massive gang-on-gang overkill. Downtown office thinks we got new players in Hell's Kitchen, and whoever they are, we're talking some kind of paramilitary-type organization with the training, knowledge, and hardware to take out half the city."

"What on earth for?" I asked.

"That's what's driving the DA nuts. We don't know who they are. We just know who they're not."

"I'd say they're definitely not fond of the Irish," Foggy said.

"You think?" Mahoney said. "Now, we got history, so I'll tell you as a friend," he glanced at both of us, "stay out of this." His stare landed on me. "Especially you," pointing a figure my way.

"Me?" I mocked, pretending to be hurt by that. I'm not staying out of this. There is no way in…Hell's Kitchen. Hehe. I had to say it. "If you've got a witness," he turned back to Foggy, "the smart thing to do is to turn him over and walk away. Hell's Kitchen is about to explode." Mahoney turned and walked away.

"You hear that?" Foggy asked. "He called me friend." I back handed him on the arm, making sure it stung a little. Then I turned to Matt while Foggy acted like it hurt. "What'd you get? I saw you tuning out." We all started slowly walking across the road, further away from everyone else.

"Whatever happened here happened to the Dogs of Hell last week," Matt said.

"Why a biker gang?" I thought aloud, trying to piece this mess together.

"What are we stepping into?" Foggy asked.

"I don't know," Matt said. "I think I can rattle some cages, see who talks, but…"

"Did you even listen to Brett? We're talking about a squad of trained killers loose on the streets. Not the kind of guys you challenge to a fist fight in your underwear."

"Hey. It's not underwear, Foggy. Underwear is comfortable."

"Yeah, depending on the brand," I added.

Matt pointed at me. "See, she gets it." Then we both started laughing.

"Oh, HA HA," Foggy said. "You two think you're so funny. Look, you guys are many things, but bullet proof is not one of them." He side glanced at me. "Especially you."

"Ouch," I mocked, then went back to normal. "I need to go get Chase, like I promised Alison. I'll drop him off with her at the hospital." I pointed at Matt. "I'll see _you_ out on the streets. Bring your underwear." They both chuckled. I started backing away. Matt grabbed my wrist and then pulled me into him. He kissed me on the lips and then said, "Be careful."

"You, too." I smiled, my hand slipping into his. I gave a slight squeeze before reluctantly letting go.

"What?" Foggy tossed his arms in the air. "No kiss for me?"

I chuckled and backed away. "You boys be good." I turned around, ignoring Foggy's comment. I walked about a block over and then got a cab. I rattled off the address to Alison's café and then sat back for the ride. About twenty minutes later we were there. I paid the man and then ran up to the front door. I unlocked the door and then walked in. "Chase? It's Dani."

I went for the stairs case and trotted up them to the next floor. Also known as their apartment. Chase came out of the bedroom, yawning. "Were you sleeping?" I almost sounded disgusted. I didn't mean too, these things just happen. He stretched and looked at me, frowning. "You're not Chinese food."

I sighed. "Come on. We need to go. I want you to pack a bag with some things to do."

"Why? Where are we going?"

"It's a long story." I pushed him into his room. I snagged his back pack off the ground and then dumped its contents onto the bed. I thrust it into his chest. "Come on. You're spending the night at my place. And, will you hurry up? I need to get out there with Matt."

"Again…what happened? And where's MOM?"

"She and Karen are at the hospital with one of Nelson and Murdock's new clients. Okay? It's not safe at the moment. You've seen my place-"

"It's like Fort Knox."

"Exactly. Now move it." I pushed him further into the room. He sighed and then began gathering his things. I crossed my arms, tapping my toes. I heard an all too familiar sound…and froze. Someone opened a window. I sighed. Maybe I'm just on edge. Maybe I heard wrong. "Chase." I slowly swung the door closed until it was only open an inch.

"What?"

"You still have that cross bow I gave you?"

"Yeah?"

"Where is it?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. I sighed.

"Okay. Keep packing." I opened the door and stepped out into the living room. Sure enough, the living room window was open. But I can't remember if it was closed when I got here or not. I closed Chase's bedroom door and then walked out into the room. I went to each room, looking for anything out of place.

I was at the entrance to the kitchen, when a shadow passed over me. I tensed, adrenaline shooting into my veins. Suddenly, arms wrapped around me from behind, squeezing my neck. Oh, come on. I've already had this done to me once today. I instantly backed up to the couch. I kept going until we'd flipped over it.

He hit the back of the couch first; I rolled over him into the cushions. His grip loosened and I slipped out as he continued onto the wooden coffee table, breaking it. I gasped for a breath as I jumped over the back of the couch. I ran to the light switch by the kitchen. I spun around and saw a man standing in the living room. He looked about five inches taller than me, big and stocky. A crew cut to match.

"Who are you?" I asked, backing up into the kitchen. "I know for a fact that you don't live here."

"Neither do you," he said, in a deep, raspy voice. He started taking steps closer, following me. I backed into the sink and glanced around. I pulled a big chef's knife out of the holder and squeezed its handle in my right hand. "Tell me who you are," I said, "and you might just be able to avoid what's coming."

I waited a few seconds, but he showed no signs of talking. He just stared at me in this…brooding, _bring it_ look. "Alright, then," I said. I was starting to shake from the high levels of adrenaline in my blood. Probably a little fear was mixed in there, too. "What are you waiting for?"

He continued to stare at me, unimpressed yet still determined. His hand reached behind him and I knew what he was going for.

"Come on!" I screamed, lunging forward. I grabbed the silver tray off of the island in the middle of the kitchen. I pulled it back and launched it into his face. He put up his arms to block it, as I put my left hand on the island, jumped and then planted both feet in his chest. He had just lowered his arms as my feet hit him. He was caught off guard and thrown out into the living room. He stumbled, catching himself.

I swung and kicked him in the side with my left leg. Hit him, but he caught it on its return. He looked at me, thinking he was smart for doing that. Wrong. I turned enough to make eye contact with him. I caught a glimpse of something but I couldn't tell what.

I jumped with my right leg and spun to the left, planting my right foot in the side of his head. I spun a few times in the air before coming to a crashing end on the ground. I glanced behind me. His head bounced off the wall, leaving a dent. I quickly got to my feet and readied for my next move. I heard a door open a split second before hearing, "What's…going on?"

I glanced at Chase. The dude was on the ground, getting to his knees. He wiped blood out of the corner of his mouth, staring at Chase. He went rigid, freezing for a moment. I froze, too. Trying to think of what to do. I sighed in indecision. I've never heard him so terrified before. I shook it from my thoughts and then focused on my opponent.

"Chase…" I panted. "Go back in your room and close the door." The guy stood, still staring at Chase. "Now, please." Chase almost moaned as he closed the door. Once it closed, the man looked at me.

"Who are _you_ supposed to be?" he asked genuinely curious.

"I'm the babysitter, you oversized Neanderthal." I ran at him. He looked ready for me, so I did what he wouldn't expect. At the last second, I dropped to the ground and slid between his legs simultaneously clubbing my fist into his junk. He doubled over as I came out of the other side. I rolled onto my back, planting both feet on his butt and pushing.

He flew forward into the back of the couch, grabbing it to right himself. I quickly jumped him, swinging my fist. I clocked him across the jaw and then came back swinging the knife. He jumped back, just catching a graze from it. Then he caught my wrist, squeezing it until I dropped the knife.

Once I did, his other fist met my face. He punched me twice in the gut before I was able to get my hand loose. I quickly jumped onto his torso, wrapping my legs around his stomach. I bent back, grabbing the ground, and then carried out the move, launching him forward and onto his back.

His body made a loud thud as it hit and I thought for sure it'd go through the floor. I rolled onto my back, off of him and sighed. I haven't done that in awhile. At least, not since I last worked with Natasha. I brought my legs up, rolling over my head and into the crouching position. I stood up and leaned into the back of the couch, panting.

I heard Chase's door open and I glance up. "Close the door," I panted/moaned. He looked even more frightened, now. I could taste my blood in my mouth and figured it was probably on my face, too. Just what I need. The kid seeing me get my butt kicked…IN HIS OWN HOUSE.

The guy on the floor moaned as he got to his knees. I turned toward him and attempted to kick him in the head. But he grabbed my foot. With his other hand, he yanked my other foot out from under me. I slammed on my back with a loud thud. My head instantly felt like it'd been run over.

I groaned and opened my eyes to find the man standing over me. He reached down and grabbed the front of my jacket, and shirt. He picked me up with ease and then threw me over the couch. I flew in-between the two chairs adjacent to the couch, my head and legs hitting them as I passed through.

I bounced off the floor, made a pit stop on the wall and then came back down. I rolled onto my side and then looked back up at him. He was still standing from where he threw me. His chest heaved; blood ran from his forehead, mouth, and nose. He almost looked…satisfied. I sighed, rolling my head back. "Dani!" I heard Chase whisper as his head appeared a few inches above mine.

"Go to your…room." I grunted as I sat up. I felt cold metal touch my hand and I looked down. Chase slithered back into his room, but slid me the cross bow. He must've found it while we were fighting. My hand wrapped around the handle. I slowly got to my feet and then leaned back into the wall.

I raised the crossbow as he pulled a gun out of his belt. We both pointed our weapons at each other. I looked onto his eyes and stared. I saw something wild staring back at me, dangerous. What was he waiting for? I glanced to my right and saw the door was still open.

"Chase…" I swallowed hard. "Close the door." I could hear him start to protest. "NOW, Chase!" I watched him close the door and then looked back at what's his face.

He raised the gun a quarter of an inch higher, and in a split second…I knew he was going to pull the trigger. My figure instinctively pulled my trigger, as a gunshot filled my ears. We both lurched back and to the side as each others weapons hit one another. I didn't see where my arrow hit him, but I know it did.

His bullet tore through my left shoulder, not too far from my heart. The force slammed me into the wall behind me. My head hit the wall, and started waving the white flag. I slide to the ground, in and out of consciousness. My vision blurred as I watched him stagger to the window. He climbed through it and onto the fire escape. And disappeared.

I felt hands shaking me and looked to my right. Chase was on the ground beside me, on the verge of tears. "Hey…it's okay," I said. He looked up where I was standing and then back at me. I looked up as best I could. The bullet went through my shoulder and into the wall, spraying blood with it. That blood was then pulled down the wall as I slid to the floor.

"Okay," I sighed. "Chase, I need you to listen to me…and follow ever word. You hear me?" He quickly nodded. "Okay. Go and get me two bath towels, okay?" He nodded and then got up. He ran away, disappearing. I rolled my head toward the window. He's still gone.

Good. Chase ran back into the room with the towel and crouched down next to me. "Now what?" his voice shook.

"Place one of the folded towels between my shoulder and the wall." He nodded and then did as I said. I leaned forward for him, trying not to make any sounds that would scare him more. I then leaned against it. "Thank you. I'll take the other." He handed it to me and I pressed it into the wound, wincing. "Go shut and lock the window, then call your mother."

He ran to the window to close it. A few seconds later he was running to the kitchen for the phone. Alison's place was now trashed. The broken coffee table, over turned chairs, the blood here and there. Oh, well. I didn't plan this at all. Sometimes, these things just happen. Chase stepped out of the kitchen, bent down and picked something up.

He walked over to me and dropped it in my hand. The casing from the bullet that went through my shoulder. While Chase dialed the number, I replayed the fight in my head. At first, I think he was holding back. But then once he realized I was out for blood, then so was he. But if he were going to kill the Fletchers, then why'd he not go for Chase? Each time Chase came out, he stopped. He waited to shoot me until Chase had closed the door.

"She didn't answer," he said frantically.

"It's okay. Go grab the med bag and then try again," I kept my voice as even as I could. Now that I was off my adrenaline high, the pain was setting in. Working with S.H.I.E.L.D. the past few months has really revamped my moves. I don't even remember choosing to do those things. It was all instinct. Chase dropped the bag by me and then tried to call Alison again. If she can't come soon, Chase is going to get a lesson in first aid.

I sighed and leaned my head into the wall. Why was Chase holding him back? I held the casing in my left hand, pressing the towel against my wound with the other. So, who are you mystery man? And what do you want with the Fletchers?

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Karen's fingernails tapped the hospital chair armrest relentlessly. I sighed and readjusted my position, leaning my cheek into my fist. We'd been sitting with Grotto for over an hour. Pour guy had many lacerations—not just the one bleed like I'd originally thought. The constant tapping was starting to give me a headache. Inhaling, I said, "Karen." She immediately stopped, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs to sit on the opposite side of her chair.

Just as she did, Grotto stirred. I sat up a bit in my chair. He slowly opened his eyes and instantly starting looking around the room quickly. Probably realizing he was in a hospital, he quickly starting pulling at the nubbins in his nose. I was on my feet in a second. "No, no, no," I shook my head grabbing onto his arms. "That's a bad idea—a _very_ bad idea. You have multiple lacerations."

"The doctor said," Karen started, standing at the end of the bed.

"No! No doctor," he quickly shook his head.

I held him tighter, despite his pulling against me. "The cut is deep into the muscle, Steve. You just need some physical therapy and then you're home free—unless you rip them open trying to be an idiot right now, understand? You need to stay here."

"That ain't happening," he protested.

"We're trying to help you," Karen argued, looking frustrated.

He scoffed. "By hog typing me to a hospital when I've got a target on my-" He hissed, moving the wrong way, and I could feel my blood start to boil in annoyance. Nothing's worse than spending your free time patching someone up just to have them ruin it. But I kept my voice calm and semi-quiet. "You need to listen to me, Steve-"

"Who is Steve?" he asked, holding still for the first time in five minutes.

I sighed. " _You_ are. Karen told the nurse that you're name is Steve Shaffer—she's your wife, Isabelle, and I'm your sister, Lisa. You got into a bar fight defending her honor. And other than the beer that was wasted when that bottle sliced through your flesh, she has no regrets because she has loved you since she was sixteen, hot Irish temper and all."

He stared at me a moment. "That's a nice story, doll. You gotta run home now. Because neither of you have the balls for what's coming." I knew he was mocking me—which made me just want to give him some more lacerations to complain about later. I let go of him, standing upright.

"I wrote stories for a living, and it's _Alison_ to you," I crossed my arms, leaning in an inch. "We're all you've got, Lucky Charms; no one else is coming to save you. So lie down and shut up." He grumbled something I couldn't make out but he carefully slid himself back down under the covers. I looked to Karen and she nodded, dropping into her chair again. Suddenly my cell phone buzzed violently in my jacket pocket.

I quickly fished it out and looked at the caller ID. "Is it your boyfriend?" Grotto mumbled, bitter. Ignoring him, I walked past Karen to the door. "I'm gonna step out a sec, okay?" I said, and she nodded. It was my home phone number. The only person who would be using that number so late would be either Chase or Dani—or both. I pushed through the door and out into the empty hospital hall. I answered the phone, "Hello?"

"OHMYGOSHMOMDANIWASSHOTTHEHOUSEISAMESSI'MFREAKINGOUT-"

Chase squeaked and there was a second of silence before I heard a grumbling Dani come on the phone. "Hey, we need to talk," she said, sounding tired. My mind was racing and my heart was edging into my throat. I took a deep breath. "Dani, what happened?" I asked, trying—and failing—to keep my voice from cracking. A few nurses were coming by so I edge across the hall into the hallway just across from grotto's room.

I could hear Dani's labored breathing. "I came to get Chase, and there was a guy in your apartment. We fought—sorry about your coffee table—and we more or less shot each other."

"WHAT?" My eyes rounded. "There was someone in my apartment?"

"Yeah, he came in through the window just after I got here," Dani answered. I could vaguely hear Chase rambling about something on the other end, and Dani told him to shut up before continuing. "Did you do anything recently to anger the local mobs?"

"You said he, couldn't that mean it was an isolated event?" I asked, leaning my hip into the wall. I had positioned myself perfectly to still see the door to the room. I didn't want to leave Karen in there with him for too long, but this was important. Hopefully she would understand. "I guess…I'm not exactly…thinking clearly at the moment," Dani reasoned, breathing deeply.

"What did this guy look like? Have you seen him before?" I questioned.

"No. He was…big—like tall—and really bulky… _stocky_. He looked like a pitbull." I paused. Wait a second. Bulky, tall, looks like a pitbull. Where have I heard that before? My hand jolted so hard I nearly dropped my cell phone as a screamed rang out through the halls. Oh no. That was nothing good. Karen cracked open the room door and locked eyes with me before looking down the hall. I peered around the corner wall.

I could hear Dani saying something on the other end but I wasn't listening. "He's got a gun!" someone shouted, down the hall. Nurses scrambled out of the way and a man emerged from around the corner, turning to come this way. Oh no…no, no, no, no. _Frank_. My Frank—the Frank from the café. I saw the gun and quickly slid back behind the wall. My eyes shot to Karen. She looked like she was about to scream.

"Dani, stay with Chase, okay? Don't you dare leave that apartment." I hung up and shoved my phone away, then turned to Karen. I made a motion with my hand urgently and she dove back into the room. A second later she reemerged, a fist full of Grotto's gown, yanking him along behind her. She bolted up the hall and I ran right behind her.

My heart was pounding in my ears. The only thing louder was the bullet blasting into a rolling cart of trays just over our heads. Instinctively, I shoved Karen's head down as dust burst through the air from whatever was on that cart. We dove around the corner of a nurse's station. Only a foot in and another shot blasted through the glass windows in between us at the psychopath chasing us., sending glass pieces all over the floor.

We just missed getting sprayed with the debris. We kept running, following a small group of nurses and a few patients, but he wasn't far behind. Think, Alison. My eyes locked on a stairwell access door just ahead. "Move- _move_!" I shoved Karen through the door and Grotto went in after her without a complaint. "Go!" There was just enough time to catch a quick, split second glance over my shoulder, and it was a mistake.

That split second was long enough to catch his eyes staring right back at mine. He knew it was me. I knew it was him. But he lowered his gun as he marched forward after us and I quickly dove into the stairwell. Karen and Grotto were at least three floors below me. I took the steps two at a time, my feet moving faster than they ever have before. At the diner, Frank said he did things people wouldn't understand.

Is this what he meant? Murdering people? I inwardly shook my head at myself. When he asked me to write his story I knew I should've said no but, like usual, I was an idiot and basically agreed. I was heaving when I finally pushed through the alley exit. The cold air hit me like a wall of bricks. I skidded to a stop at the edge of the road. As soon as I did, a car I recognized whizzed past me. I lurched back at the near miss.

My body was flooded with relief. It was Ben's car. Karen started using it a while after his death. At least now Grotto and Karen will get away. If the only casualty is me, I can live with that—or rest in peace, which seems more accurate. My whole body jolted in surprise as the passenger side side-view mirror blasted into pieces. Another shot rang out, blasting right through the back window. I heard Karen shriek.

I covered my mouth with my hand, watching in horror as the car kept going. It swerved a bit but Karen's foot was probably firmly pressed on the gas. I could relax a bit when she was able to round the corner, out of harm's way—for the most part. Then another gunshot rang out. A hellish heat ripped through my right shoulder blade, sending flares of pain along my spine. The force of the hit was just enough to make me take a step to steady myself.

The intense heat in my shoulder was like a knife being stabbed into my shoulder instead. My hand flew to my shoulder. I tried not to scream as best I could so, in its place, a strangled and somewhat muffled cry escaped. My hand came away covered in blood—as I expected—and trembling. This is bad. This is very…very bad. Carefully, I shrugged off my jacket and sat it on the sidewalk. I tried to move faster as I reached for the hem of my shirt.

I was wearing a tank top underneath so at least I wouldn't be naked. I peeled off my over shirt and balled it with my left hand, then pressed it to the oozing red hole in my shoulder. It stung vibrantly and I hissed through my teeth. I leaned down and awkwardly grabbed my jacket off the floor with my right hand. It hurt to move anything right now. But I desperately needed to get to Chase and Dani. At that was at my apartment, several blocks away.

Therefore, I needed to get to my car. Thankfully for me I keep a spare med bag inside. Otherwise I'm not sure I would even make it home with as much as this wound is bleeding. I ambled as fast as I could up the sidewalk toward the front of the hospital. I was probably crazy for doing this. I'm at the hospital for Pete's sake, I could just step in and get it stitched up. But, no, I'm doing it myself. I made it to my car and leaned a hip into the passenger side door.

My fingers let go of my jacket and it rumbled to the ground, then they dug into my pocket for my keys. They had to be there. It was the only place I put them. For a split second, I found nothing, and I was about to panic. But then my hand hit the key ring and my body flooded with relief. If it weren't for the incredibly painful hole in my shoulder, I probably would've seemed more excited. I pressed my thumb into the unlock button.

The car hummed and beeped, and I pulled open the passenger side door. I quickly slid onto the seat and pulled the door shut behind me. Something my shoulder twinged, hard. I gripped the seat and muffled another scream, squeezing my eyes shut. Does it hurt this much when Matt and Dani get shot? At least the bullet seemed to go clear through. My whole body was shaking now. I tried to remain coordinated as best I could.

I leaned forward and reached down, feeling under the seat. My shoulder burned and I bit my lip. My fingers latched into the handle of my med kit and I pulled it out, sitting back a bit, putting the kit on my lap. I had to use some thinking but I got the bag unzipped and started rummaging for the sewing kit. In all honesty I don't think I've ever done this before. I've never had to stitch myself. Other people, sure.

Never myself. A chill was settling into the air inside the car, so I leaned over as best I could and started the car, turning on the heat. When bleeding, keep warm and keep pressure on whatever wound you have. Closing it would be optimal but you don't always have someone that knows what they're doing. I finally found my sewing kit and opened it up. Taking a deep breath, I pulled out a needle. This was going to hurt.


	6. Two Steps Back

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I woke to the sound of footsteps. Some one's in the house. I was sitting on the couch, the world's worst bandage on my shoulder. Chase's head lay on my lap. I looked down at him, panic started to rise in me as I tried to get my bearings. He was still asleep. I hear something slam downstairs and jump. My right hand tightens on my gun as the footsteps get closer. I point it at the top of the stairs.

"Chase!" I hear Alison's voice, frantic. I sigh with relief and lower the gun. "Dani!" I hear her thud up the stairs. She appeared at the top a few seconds later. She stopped, nearly toppling forward. She gapped at the room, covering her mouth. She snapped out of it and walked up to us. She stepped into a ray of sunlight coming in the window and I was able to get a better look at her.

She had a bandage on her right shoulder. Blood stained the surrounding skin. Concern instantly flooded me. "Alison," I croaked. I swallowed hard as she got down to Chase's level. "What happened to you?" She looked slightly like a deer in headlights. Whatever happened was still very fresh in her mind.

"The…man who took out the Irish. He came for Grotto."

"Where's Grotto, now? And Karen?"

"They're fine, they got away."

"And the guy?" I asked. She shook her head, looking back down at Chase. I sighed. What is going on? She glanced to the right and saw the gun in my hand, resting on Chase. She looked up at me, seeming to have a revelation. "Are you okay?" She sat on the couch next to me, ignoring the question.

Her left hand went to my shoulder. We got it sewn shut, but the only bandage we had the energy for was a towel and duct tape. "Did he shoot you?" I said seriously. She froze and looked me in the eyes. I could tell she wasn't sure. I nodded and she went back to work. I helped her remove the towel and duct tape.

She got out her med bag and then gave me a proper bandage. "Are you sure you don't know who the guy was that broke in?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't ring a bell," she said simply. "What happened?"

"I came to get Chase, he showed up shortly after. He attacked me, first. He barely said a word." I paused and thought. "He shot me and then left. But not before I shot him."

"You did? With what?"

"Cross bow."

She nodded. "Did Chase see?"

"No. He waited till Chase was out of site. We both did," I replied. She nodded and then walked away. She came back a little while later with a plain grey t-shirt. I slithered my way out from under Chase and stood. I took the shirt from her as we heard someone bang on the door downstairs. We both jumped and looked at the stairwell.

I picked up my gun and then started downstairs. I heard Alison right behind me. I got to the base of the stairs and could make out Foggy through the door to the café. I sighed and then stepped to the side. Alison rushed past me and to the door. She opened it and let him in. He looked frantic and in a rush.

Alison closed the door, locking it behind him. He glanced at her and then locked onto me. "What happened to you guys?" he asked in shock.

"I was at the hospital when it was…attacked," Alison said. He looked back at me.

"Long story," I sighed. "What's wrong?"

He stared a second longer and then shook his head. "Have either of you heard from Matt?" My eyes widened. Oh my goodness. Matt was out there alone last night. I should've met him at the hospital when what's his face attacked. I was inwardly starting to panic, as Alison shook her head.

"No, why?" I heard some slight concern in her voice.

"I've called him a dozen times and he's not picking up." Foggy looked at me. "You weren't either."

"Well, my phone is in my suit which is at home," I said.

"You were supposed to be out there with him."

"I know. I got tied up here and never went out. I got shot and then passed out not too long after. I've been here the whole time."

Foggy looked angry and annoyed. Then he sighed. "We need to find him." Someone knocked on the door and we all looked that way. Mary stood outside the door. Alison quickly went to the door and let her in. She was shocked to see us both hurt. She opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off, "Mary, I need your car."

She sat down Lizzie's car seat and then nodded. "Of course."

"Great." I looked at Foggy. "I'm going with you. Mary, can you help me change?" She quickly came over to me and helped me out of my shirt. She tossed the bloodied one aside and then helped me put on the fresh one. "Thanks. Alison can fill you in." I nodded and then walked to the door. I looked back at Foggy. "Let's go."

Mary tossed him the car keys and then he was right behind me. We got in the car and then he drove us to the hospital. We were going to start there and work our way out. Surely Matt would've fought this guy. He would've heard what was happening and then showed up t save the day. I sighed. Expecting that I would, too.

Traffic was a nightmare, so we parked two miles over and walked the rest of the way. Foggy was practically running the whole way to the hospital. I was out of breath by the time we got there. My shoulder ached. We walked up to the police barricades outside of the hospital and then weaved our way through the crowd.

We got as close as we could. The place looked like a disaster. I heard an officer's radio and then glanced at Foggy. I could tell he heard it, too. " _The building's clear. The prep is not in the building. Standby to lift lockdown. All units hold position. We have a report of shots fired earlier on a rooftop up on 10_ _th_ _._ "

We both glanced at each other. "Matt," Foggy said. I quickly nodded. We both turned and hurried out of the crowd. We walked a block before Foggy ran up the steps of a building kind of like mine. I followed him as he spoke into the intercom. "I lost my keys."

The door buzzed a second later and then Foggy rushed in. The door came back in my face and I sighed. I pushed it open and then ran after him. "Foggy!" I rushed up the stairs, like a flight behind him. "Hello?" He didn't reply. I sighed and just tried to pick up the pace. I want to find Matt just as much as he does, but I'm not going to kill myself doing it.

About ten minutes later we got to the roof. We split up and began looking. There were no visible signs of a fight. I went to the edge, glancing over at the adjoining buildings. From here, I can't see anything that sticks out. "He's not here," I said, turning to Foggy. He looked more worried than he did before. And frankly, so did I. "Let's try the next one."

He nodded and then we were off. We went to the roof door and headed back down the stairs. I felt like collapsing at the bottom. My shoulder burned and I felt slightly light headed. I shook it off and then continued. We went to the next building. Foggy rang the buzzer and waited for a response. One white lie later and we were in.

We ran up those steps, as well. I had to force myself to climb the last few flights. The blood loss and lack of sleep, plus the fight and extremely high levels of adrenaline, were _not_ working in my favor this morning. But we reached the top and then searched the roof. Once again, we came up empty handed.

I made a quick call to Alison and Mary on our way down, just to make sure he hadn't reappeared. They both said he hadn't. Now I was really starting to worry. All the crazy thoughts people think when someone they care about is missing were floating around in my head. I tried to push them away, but couldn't help consider a few of them.

We walked up to the third building, and Foggy rang the buzzer. "Yeah?" the voice said.

"Hey, my kid locked me out," Foggy said.

"Your kid locked you out?"

"Yeah."

"You some kind of idiot?"

Foggy tossed his arms to the side, glancing at me. I couldn't help the smile on my face. He glared at me. "Yeah," he ended up saying. A second later, the door buzzed. I pushed it open and then ran to the stairs. We got three quarters of the way up when I stopped in the stair well. I sighed and took a breath.

Foggy noticed I'd stopped, a floor up, and looked back at me. He mildly annoyed, yet concerned at the same time. His signature look, these days. "You're bleeding."

I looked down at my shoulder. A quarter sized circle of red stained the grey t-shirt Alison gave me. I sighed and looked up at him. "Yep. Then I guess we better hurry this up." I started walking, continuing past him. A few seconds later I hear him following. We reached the roof and split up.

He went right and I went left. I combed each piece of the roof. Looking for possible disturbances, blood, anything out of the ordinary. And so far, nothing. I sighed. Where on earth is he? I walked to the edge and looked over. "Dani!" I startled at Foggy's voice. He sounded scared. "Dani, get over here!"

I quickly ran to the side of the roof he'd been searching. It didn't take long to find him. And when I did…I froze. All the air in my lungs left. Foggy was on the ground holding Matt dressed as Daredevil. He'd taken off his mask, begging him to wake up. I sucked in an unsteady breath and then snapped out of it.

I hurried up to them, seeing blood on Matt's face the closer I got. I crouched down opposite Foggy. "Matt." He appeared to be awake but it was hard to tell since he can't see anyway. But first off I could tell something wasn't right. I quickly glanced over the rest of his body. Nothing else looked injured.

I instantly looked for where the blood on his face was coming from. It all appeared to have come from his hairline, give or take. Foggy was rambling, freaking out. I tuned him out and tried to concentrate. I looked down at his mask on the ground and picked it up. A large crack ran down the middle of it. I looked back down at Matt. What happened to you?

He was appearing to be a little more awake, but still something was off. I sat the mask down. "Matt, can you hear me?" I put my hands on the sides of his face, turning it toward me. His eyes were moving, searching. "Matt," it came out sounding like a squeak. A desperate plea. Because that's exactly how I felt.

"Dani," Matt said. It was very quiet, yet so loud at the same time. Oh, thank goodness. I wanted to burst into tears. But I sniffled it back. "You're safe now, Matt," I said. "We're gonna get you out of here." It's hard to explain, but I could tell he understood me. I looked up at Foggy. "Go get the car and park it out front."

"You can get him down the stairs?"

"By the time we reach the bottom, you should be pulling up," I said. He looked at me, still worried. Then he looked down at Matt. I reached over and grabbed Foggy's hand. He looked at it, then me. "He's going to be okay, Foggy. It's probably just a concussion; I've had my fair share. But we need to get him to Alison."

He nodded and then passed Matt off to me. He quickly stood and then ran to the door. "Okay, Matt." I draped his right arm across my shoulders. I snagged his mask off the ground and then made sure I had a good hold of him. I took a deep breath and then stood. We stood completely up, my shoulder screaming in protest of the added weight.

I bit my lip and readjusted. But Matt wasn't completely limp. He was trying to stand. We slowly staggered to the door. I swung it wide open and then quickly walked through. Then we began our descent. It wasn't really hard. I used the railing for most of my support. Matt was trying to hold his own weight, but would give out every couple of minutes.

"It's okay, Matt. I've got you." We stopped for a minute and I readjusted. Then we continued. I felt wetness on my arm and knew it was my shoulder. I sighed and acted like it wasn't bleeding again. We reached the bottom of the stairwell about twenty minutes after we'd started. I looked out the window through the door and didn't see Foggy.

I walked over to the last step and sat him down on it. He was in and out of consciousness. I walked to the door and stood there waiting for Foggy. A few minutes later I saw him enter the building. He came in the stairwell and helped me pick up Matt. "The coast is clear," Foggy said as we started walking.

We quickly made our way out of the building and to the car. We laid him down on the back seat. I climbed in with him and sat his head on my lap. Foggy jumped in the front seat and tromped on the gas.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed through my nose, peeling off the gauze bandage from last night. It was probably my worst work but at least it held for as long as it did. I glanced over at Chase. He was sleeping face first on my bed, a foot or two to my right. After last night I'm surprised he's sleeping at all—especially here. I replaced the bandage on my shoulder, pulling on a loose sweater, and headed downstairs.

After everything that happened in the events of last night my body was a little jittery, while my mind was all over numb trying to process it. Dani and Foggy were out looking for Matt. Apparently he went to confront Frank at the hospital and didn't come home. It made my skin itch. I wanted to do more. I wanted to be out looking. But I probably wouldn't make it three blocks feeling like this.

The aspirin I took was just enough to tide over the aching in my shoulder blade. Still, I used my left hand to pour my coffee. "Alison!" My arm jerked, sloshing coffee onto the counter. I quickly glanced right. Foggy and Dani were hefting in Matt—still in costume, just missing the mask—an arm around either of their shoulders. He looked quite out of it. I put down the pot and hurried across the café to them.

I grabbed Matt's face with my hands and held it up, making him look at me. His eyes were vacant looking. That was not good. "Matt? Matt, can you hear me?" I held up a hand and snapped twice. Nothing. I nodded, looking up at Dani. "Get him upstairs, be gentle with his head." Looking a bit frazzled, she nodded, and she and Foggy hurried to get him to the stairs. Then they both started heaving him up step-by-step. I followed them up and directed them to lay Matt on the couch.

It was one of the only things not incredibly damaged last night. "Is he going to be okay?" Foggy sniffled. I nudged past him and sat on the edge of the couch beside Matt. I put a hand on either side of his jaw and slid them back toward his neck. It was probably just a bad concussion. But it never hurt to check for other head injuries. There was no swelling or abnormal patches of skin, no abrasions that I could find.

I sat back. "He should be better in a couple days. It looks like a bad concussion is all we have to worry about." Foggy sighed in relief behind me and I looked up at Dani. Her eyebrows were creased, thinking hard about something. "Don't give him any medicine for a while," I continued, looking back down at Matt. "If there's something going on we can't see, medicine will only hide it until it's too late."

"What are we supposed to do if he's in pain?" Foggy asked.

"I have ice packs in the freezer," I stood, turning to see him. "That'll have to do." Just then, I heard the chime above the door jingle downstairs. The sign said closed. Why would someone be in the café? I sighed heavily and headed for the stairs. "Alison."

I stopped and turned back around, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," Dani gave a mild closed-mouth smile. I nodded once, returning the gesture, and started down the stairs. My head was swirling a bit but I chalked it up to the pain killers. That's all it could be right? Not that some mass murderer tried to kill me and Karen last night—and tried to kill Dani before that, in my own house. No, it's none of that. When my feet hit the base of the stairs, I instinctively froze.

I started shaking my head. "No… _no_. You cannot be here."

"We need to talk." Frank stood near the counter, wearing the same clothes from last night's shooting gallery rampage at the hospital. I pulled my sweater closed over my front—seeing as I was only wearing my bloodied tank top from last night—and crossed my arms over my middle as I started for the counter.

"You wanna talk? Okay, about what? About how you tried to kill someone last night—including me?" I asked, bitterly sarcastic. "About how you opened fire in a _hospital_ and chased me and my friend, guns blazing the whole way? Yeah, let's start there." Voices filtered in from the stairs, muffled as they echoed from Dani and Foggy. It sounded like they were arguing about something.

Frank glanced over my shoulder, and then settled his eyes back on me. "You got company?" he asked, knowingly, his tone calm. My eyebrows furrowed. He acted like nothing I just said bothered him in the slightest. Figures. The guy's crazy. "Yeah, the girl you shot last night—well," I chuckled humorlessly, sarcastically. " _One_ of the girls you shot last night."

He eyed me a moment, his eyebrows lowering just slightly, his jaw set. I could tell he was trying to figure out what I was talking about. I squared my shoulders. "Don't play dumb," I snapped. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." The voices from upstairs got loud for a second, sounding closer to the stairs than before. I exhaled and glanced at the stairs a moment. If either of them came downstairs….

I turned back to Frank. "You wanna talk? Fine. But we talk outside," I quickly reasoned, keeping my voice as level as possible. I didn't wait for a reply. I started across the Café and pushed through the front door, causing the chime to tinkle as I did. It was quite warm outside already but there was a chill to the air from the morning. A second after I exited Frank came outside and walked around me, straight to a slightly beat up Camry just past Dani's car.

He walked around to the driver's side and looked back at me. "You coming or what?" he asked, sliding in and shutting the door. This maniac wants me to get into a car with him? _Does he think I'm stupid?_ Just as I thought that, I was walking toward the car. _I'm an idiot. I'm truly an idiot_. With a heavy sigh and pulled open the passenger door and slid in, pulling it shut behind me.

Just as the door was closed, a loud and throaty bark came from behind me. My whole body jolted and I gasped, instantly edging toward the door to see behind me. "Hey, easy boy," Frank said, reaching between the seats to pet the meaty silver pitbull in the back.

I stared at him a moment, partially in shock. "You have a dog? You go around killing people with a shotgun, and you have _a dog_?"

"I know what you're thinking, and it's not true," he said, turning back to face forward in his seat again.

I scoffed. "Oh, it's not? I dreamt up being shot?"

He sighed through his nose, eyeing the street. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" I spat, leaning forward an inch to see his face. "Because it doesn't."

He turned his head to look at me. "You were safe, okay? You were safe the whole time. The only reason you got shot is because of a lousy stray bullet. It wasn't aimed at you—and it wouldn't have hit you, either. But your pal _Daredevil_ showed up and blew that all to-"

"So, what about Dani—my babysitter—hm? Was that a stray bullet, too?" I questioned, raising my eyebrows.

"That wasn't a part of the plan, either," he resigned, looking back at the road. "She was there when I showed up—we got into it, end of story." I was practically fuming. The silver pitbull from the back stuck its head between the seats and pawed at my arm closest to it with a small whimpering noise. Hesitantly, I reached back to pet it. That's when I noticed the awkward bandaging on its paw.

Blood colored a patch of the white cloth wrapped around the foot. This dog probably doesn't even belong to him. That, though, caused me to glance up. A pair of pink fuzzy dice hung from the rear view mirror. "Is this car even yours?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Doesn't matter," he replied, still refusing to look in my direction.

I inhaled. "Okay, grumpy pants. Let's go with something easy, yeah? Don't _ever_ come into my house or my Café with a gun again. When you decided to 'get into it' with Dani, you put my son in danger, and _that_ is going to take a while to forgive. Another thing—all vigilantes are off limits. You hurt them again and that is _it_ , understand? There will be no helping you and there will be no story. It will be just _done_."

"I got it," he finally turned his head back my way. His eyes were softened a little at the edges, the rest of his face looking tired. "I'm sorry about what happened last night. The kid wasn't supposed to be there. I didn't know. As for your babysitter…she's got a mean right cross, I'll give her that."

"And the vigilantes?" I prodded, somewhat hopeful.

"I won't make the first move. But I can't make any promises if they come at me first," he shook his head. My shoulders dropped and I huffed slightly. "I'm going to keep doing what I do—if you want your friends to be safe, tell them to stay out of my way."

"You're unbelievable," I frowned. He nodded in an almost flippant way, turning to look out his window, a hand rested on the wheel. Almost like he'd heard it before—someone told him he was crazy. Or that he was stupid for doing this. Either way, it was just an annoyance for him.

I inhaled, biting my tongue. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to think about writing the story. Don't come back here out of business hours." With that, I pushed open my door and climbed out, then shut the door, giving it a good hard shove. It slammed a bit and I hurried back inside the Café.


	7. Balls

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

After Alison headed downstairs, we'd gotten Matt out of his costume and set up on the couch. Foggy stepped back, finally calming down. He looked around Alison's apartment, really seeing the mess for the first time. But right before he could say something, Matt woke up. He finally was lucid, and seemed semi normal. His short term memory kind of stunk, but for the most part he was okay.

He told us what happened at the hospital. Foggy just became enraged. The whole time Matt was talking, I was watching Foggy's concern for his friend turn to anger. I just wasn't sure what about. Until he opened his big mouth. "You got shot in the head," Foggy stated. "You're lucky you're not in the morgue."

"It was just a dumb mistake," Matt said.

"What?"

"The gun on his ankle, I…I should've heard it, you know. I should've felt it."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, but he's fast, this guy, Foggy. He's trained."

"He's a lunatic, Matt," Foggy said. "I went to the hospital, I saw what he did." Then Foggy turned to me. "And what about here? Care to explain to me what happened here, _Danielle_? What was so important that you weren't out there with him like you should've been."

"Foggy-" Matt sighed.

"No! I wanna know. I thought you two were a team."

"Foggy, I told you-" I said, or tried too.

"No, you didn't! You gave me the whole 'I had a rough night, I got shot' speech," he said. "But you didn't tell me about this," he stretched out his arm across the room.

Matt sat up more, looking my way. He was suddenly concerned and on alert. He knows we're at Alison's, but I doubt he's taken the time to actually 'look' around for himself. Had he, he would've smelled the blood. Mine and my attacker's. "You got shot?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I brushed it off real quick and then turned to Foggy. "I had _every_ intention of going out there, last night. I was going to get Chase, take him to my house, and then be on my way."

"So what stopped you?" Foggy asked. I clenched my fists at my side, wanting to slap him. "Someone broke in to Alison's apartment," I said. "Crawled in through that window," I pointed. "The Idiot attacked me, first. Wouldn't say who he was or what he wanted. All I knew is that it was going to be me or him. And, it made matters worse that Chase was here! I didn't want him to see any of that. But," I shrugged, "like I had a choice. I was on my own, too, Foggy. Fighting some guy twice my size with nothing but kitchen knives at my disposal."

"Then how'd you get shot?" Foggy said, somewhat disbelieving.

"Really? The guy had a gun tucked in his belt, you moron. After he threw me across the room-" I shouted to add emphasis. But really I was just trying to prove a point to Foggy. "-like I was nothing, he pulled out his gun! Chase, of course watching, found the cross bow I'd given him and was able to get it to me. I shot him just as he shot me." I got close to Foggy, lowering my voice. "I slid to the ground, a hole in my shoulder, and a boy at my side who was on the verge of tears wondering what on earth was happening in _his_ living room."

I took a step back. "I didn't have a chance to stop and call someone with an ETA. I'll tell you what, Foggy…you get yourself in that kind of a situation and then tell me how you decided to react. That whole thing last night was bad enough as it was…and then, I wake up and find out that the hospital was attacked and that Alison was shot. And then I've got you banging on the door telling me Matt's missing. This whole thing is one bad dream I want to wake up from."

"Then why don't you? Let the police handle this," he said, looking between us. I scoffed and then walked a few steps in a circle. This guy just won't stop. I glanced at Matt. He was clearly distraught by the situation. I went to cross my arms and then hissed at my shoulder. I actually forgot it was there for a second. See what happens when you argue with idiots.

I cradled my arm, walking the few feet to the med bag, sitting in the chair. I wormed off my shirt and dropped it. I unzipped the bag and began digging. I heard Foggy sigh. "This mystery guy do that to you, too?" he asked. I straightened and then looked at him. He'd peeked Matt's interest, also.

I glanced down, following Foggy's gaze. My stomach had several dark bruises, in various places. I sighed, glancing at Matt before looking at Foggy. "Yeah." I went back to what I was doing. A few seconds later, Foggy walked up to me. He sighed, "What do you need?"

I glanced up at him, stepping back. I eyed him for a second. "It needs restitched." I still eyed him, unsure of why he was helping me. He then dug into the bag and pulled out what I needed. About ten minutes later, I was all patched up. We didn't say anything, just went our separate ways.

I walked over and sat on the couch next to Matt. He seemed to be doing better, but still off. He seemed to have a light bulb moment and then asked, "Where's Karen?"

Foggy sighed, in almost annoyance. "We've been over this."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Are you sure she's okay…" he looked at me, "and Alison?"

I nodded solemnly. "They're fine."

"Karen got Grotto to the NYPD," Foggy said. "We're going to meet there, make a deal with the DA."

"Okay, I need to get dressed," Matt said, standing. Well this won't be good.

"No."

"It's okay, I know we need to get going."

"'We' don't need to do anything."

"Foggy, I don't wanna do this right now."

"You're safe, Karen's safe, Alison and Dani are safe…and our client will be safe within the hour," Foggy said. "It's all taken care of."

"Except the shooter. He's still walking the streets of Hell's Kitchen."

"He's the cops' problem now."

"He's gonna plow right through the cops," Matt scoffed. I debated on whether or not to get involved. Maybe I'll just let them sort this one out.

"I know what you're doing."

"You saw what he did to the Irish, you didn't see what he did to the Mexican Cartel. He hung them on meat hooks, and he left them there to die."

"You want another round."

"Blood is being shed, Foggy."

"And you've donated more than your fair share to the cause." Foggy looked down at me. " _Both_ of you."

"We need to stop him," I said.

"You both need to get rest, okay?" he looked back at Matt. "And when you wake up, you need to consider putting that thing-" he pointed at Matt's suit, "-back in whatever wacko box it came from." Foggy stepped back, looking proud of himself. "Better yet…" Foggy reached down to pick up the suit.

Matt lunged for it. They both stood, each one having a hold of it. I sighed. "Let go."

"You first," Foggy said. I rolled my eyes. Children. This is crazy. I would say something, but I'm done being the third wheel in their bromance. Matt tugged on the suit, ripping it out of Foggy's hands. "I don't want to do this again."

"Then don't," Matt said.

"Let the NYPD and the DA do their jobs…and trust me to do mine!" Foggy turned, scowling at me before heading for the stairs. Yeah, like this is all _my_ fault. Whether I was here or not, Matt would still be Daredevil. I sighed. Matt turned toward me. "I'm sorry."

I shrugged my good shoulder. "Hey, haters gonna hate," I said. He smiled. I stood and walked up to him. He dropped the suit and wrapped his arms around me. I squeezed him, not wanting to let go. "I was so scared something had happened to you. That we'd find you and we'd be too late-"

"Hey," Matt pulled away and then cupped my face. "It's okay. I'm right here, Elizabeth."

"You sure?" The events of the last twenty four hours were crashing down on top of me. "Because you only call me that when everything's okay, and it is _not_ okay right now." He looked about as sad as I felt. But I felt on the verge of tears. He pulled me in and hugged me again. This time holding me for a few minutes.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Foggy practically burst into the room ahead of me and I sighed, following in after him. "Are you okay?" Foggy asked, almost out of breath. Karen quickly stood from her chair and hugged him. She stood back, nodding. "Yeah, yeah. The paperwork's almost done and Brett's gonna be in here in a minute," she answered, her voice shaky. She looked at me and sighed in relief. "Alison, I'm so sorry, I-"

I shook my head. "It's okay, I understand." She gave a small, closed-mouth smile that said she still wasn't okay with it. But I truly did get it. She had to get herself and Grotto out of there and I was taking too much time. It made sense from a fight or flight point of view. I glanced over at Grotto. He was still in the hospital gown from last night with a sour look on his face. "And you're just fine, I assume?" I said, directing it at him.

He looked up at me, not impressed. "That's very funny. Where were you, huh? Out buying yourself a latte?"

"I took a bullet getting your butt out of there so, if I were you, I'd shut my Irish mouth," I replied, tiredly.

Karen gaped. "You got shot?" I shrugged back the corner of my jacket, revealing the bulky white gauze beneath the strap of another tank top. She covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Alison, are you okay? Shouldn't you be home with Chase?"

"And let you have all the fun?" I smiled dryly and she exhaled, sitting back down.

"Where's Murdock?" Grotto asked, looking up at Foggy.

"He took a sick day," Foggy replied. "You told us the Irish were attacked by a whole gang of guys. I'm pretty sure the word you used was army. You wanna tell me why I'm just now hearing this is all being done by one man?"

"Look, I didn't know you guys were-"

"Who does he work for?" Foggy interrupted.

Grotto shook his head. "I got no idea."

"Well, what do you know?" Foggy pushed, impatient.

"I know he's a sociopath, that's what," Grotto said. At least the rat and I can agree on something. My talk with Frank earlier today didn't solve anything, or make me believe he _wasn't_ some crazy murderer with a gun. "I mean, yeah, fine…I heard the rumors, okay, but I didn't think…I thought it was ridiculous, okay? Ten, twenty guys could be mowed down at a time. And with precision? You know, tactically? Every hit was like some kind of SEAL team six."

He paused a moment, taking a breath. "Then people started saying it was one guy doing all that- one man? I thought it was a ghost story. Some campfire stuff you tell freshies to make 'em poop their pants. But now…you two saw," he jutted his chin up at me and Karen. "That guy was the Grim Reaper." And another thing we can agree on. Just then, Mahoney pushed through the door into the interrogation room.

He held an orange jumpsuit and shoes. "Mr. Grote, I'm Sergeant Mahoney," he said, walking in. "Got some clothes here for you." He put them down on the table and Grotto started looking around at us in turn. "What? Am I arrested?" he asked, starting to sound worried.

"Just protective custody until we can figure out WITSEC," Foggy assured.

"Why the peel?" Grotto asked.

Mahoney shrugged once. "Or stay in the gown with your butt hanging out—I don't care." Grotto crossed his arms, resuming his pouting, and Mahoney looked at Karen and me. "We pulled the security footage from the hospital. I got ten men going over it right now."

"Any leads?" Karen asked, hopeful.

"I was hoping you had something," Mahoney looked at me.

I paused, my eyebrow slowly moving up. "Me?" I asked, curiously.

"Let's let him change. You three wanna step outside with me for a sec?" Mahoney asked, pointedly, as he pulled open the door to the room. Foggy sighed and Karen grabbed her purse. They walked through the door while Mahoney held it and I reluctantly followed after them. The door swung shut behind us once we were all out and Mahoney lead the way back to the main area of the precinct.

"Now, the DA's office is sending someone to talk you through Witness Protection options," he said, walking a bit ahead of us.

"Today?" Foggy asked, appalled.

"Yeah, right now. And listen," Mahoney replied. He stopped and turned to Foggy. "Take whatever deal they offer, okay? You don't wanna mess with this psycho." For a moment I wondered if he meant Frank or the DA. I hear she can be quite the witch when she wants to be. "So you do have a lead," Karen realized. Mahoney turned and started getting coffee from a machine in front of us.

"I ever tell you what Clemons used to say?" he asked, rhetorically.

I sighed, loosely crossing my arms. "Treat witnesses like mushrooms. Feed them trash and keep them in the dark."

"Yep," Mahoney turned around to face us. He took a drink from his coffee. "That scum's on a need to know."

"So fill us in. Who's bankrolling this guy? Who does he work for?" Foggy asked, almost whispering. I could answer that. But I kept my mouth shut, trying to act like I wanted to know who was behind him as well. "The DA's office says the shooter's independent," Mahoney explained. _I knew that_. "Vigilante type, targeting different crime families. And not in a…a _Daredevil_ or _Angel_ way. In a _death wish_ way."

 _None of this is new information_. I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I felt a head ache coming on. "Daredevil and Angel kick butt—this whole city cheers like we just won the World Series, but this guy? He does it, and the streets get bloody. Makes everybody stop and think twice about the whole 'hero' proposition," he finished.

"Well, what do you think?" Foggy inquired.

"The whole force is split. Some cops want him off the street, others think he's making our jobs a whole lot easier," he replied, extending the word _whole_. "But if you ask me, it's only a matter of time before the wrong person gets caught in the crossfire." He took another drink of his coffee and I inwardly groaned. I was that _wrong person_ last night. And so was Dani.

"I guess copycats were inevitable," Foggy sighed.

"No, it's not the first, just the latest," Mahoney looked to me at my eyebrow raise. He nodded once. "Yeah, we call them _Devil Worshippers_. Nutjobs inspired by the _Devil of Hell's Kitchen_. Most of 'em are just ineffectual idiots, but this guy…all my years on the force, I've never seen _anything_ like him." He exhaled and sauntered off, leaving us to wander back to the interrogation room when we so pleased.

This was the stupidest idea I have ever actually acted on. Coming here was a mistake—I'm going to say something or do something, and someone is going to figure out that I know this mass murderer everyone is looking for. It's just a matter of time. And now we're going to have to talk to someone sent by the District Attorney? _Balls_.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"As much as I want too," I said, "I don't think I'd be able to make myself sleep." Matt smiled, grabbing his glass and heading to the kitchen. We were now back at Matt's place. Alison dropped us off before joining Foggy and Karen. Matt was finally able to get some clothes and I'm now wearing one of his t-shirts. Before we left the café, Chase woke up.

Long story short, I ripped the stitches again and bled all over the second shirt Alison had given me. So now I have direct orders to rest. In other words, I need to stop using my arm. And I agree. But sometimes you can't help it. I got up off the couch and walked to the kitchen counter. "Remember the first time we met?"

"At the law firm?"

"No, before that."

"Oh," he smiled, walking to the sink. "Yeah, I remember. What made you think of that?"

"I don't know, really," I sighed. He turned on the sink to fill up his glass. Not a second later, he acted liked he was in pain. But I didn't see or hear anything. I straightened, watching him. He shut off the water and sighed. I watched his mannerisms. "Matt…are you okay?" He didn't reply, just walked past me to a set of shelves. He shook his head and then reached up for the pill bottle.

"Matt?" I have this sick feeling like something's not right.

"Yeah. I'm okay." He opened the pill bottle, as I walked closer to watch him better. He poured the pills out on the shelf and then cringed. His hand bumped the glass and it fell off the shelf. He reached to grab it and missed. The glass hit the floor, shattering. I walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked. He continued to look down at the glass. "Matt?" He straightened. His nose was now bleeding. Okay, something is definitely not right. They way he looked at me…the look on his face. He was freaking out. I removed my hand from his shoulder and he instantly reached out for it. He missed.

I walked around him, watching him the whole time. I stood right behind him and clapped my hands. He didn't even flinch. Oh, my goodness. He can't hear. Now he's blind _and_ deaf? What is going on? I quickly walked back to where I was and then grabbed his hand. He quickly welcomed it, looking relieved he'd found me.

I led him over to the couch and we sat down. I don't know what to do. I feel so helpless. There's no one I can shoot or punch to make this any better. I pulled him in for a hug and he wrapped his arms around me like his life depended on it. Right now I'm sure he feels it does. He has _no_ idea what's going on. I can't even begin to imagine what that's like.


	8. Oh Look, A Rocket Launcher

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, pacing beside Foggy and Karen. This was so boring having to wait for whoever the DA was sending. Foggy suddenly hissed, "Great, it's not an assistant, it's the actual DA." I instantly stopped pacing and turned. Karen stood. "That's Reyes?" she asked, timidly.

A semi-dark skinned woman was walking toward us, looking like she was on a mission, with a darker skinned man wearing glasses trailing right behind her. "In all her defense-attorney-destroying glory," Foggy nodded nervously. He quickly turned to me. "How do I look?"

"You really want _me_ answering that?" I asked, blandly.

"Right," he nodded and turned to Karen, adjusting his tie. "How do I look?"

"Uh…semi professional," she answered. She quickly put a hand on his shoulder at his mortified expression. "No, Foggy, I'm kidding." He sighed in relief just as Reyes arrived a foot from us. She pointed a finger in our general direction and looked to the dark skinned man in glasses beside her. "Are they the ones that brought in Grote?" she asked him.

"Franklin Nelson, of Nelson and Murdock," Foggy held out his hand to her. She looked down at his hand and back up at him plainly, not moving to shake it. Foggy awkwardly moved on, gesturing to me and Karen. "These are my associates Karen Page and Alison Fletcher."

She twisted and looked at the men behind her. "Officers, I want you to prepare Mr. Grote for transport." The men nodded and ambled away, and she turned back toward us. Foggy raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, but, transport where, exactly?" he asked.

"Once he's in our custody, I want you to personally handle the arrangements," she said, ignoring Foggy and talking straight to her assistant with the glasses.

"Just to put it out there," Foggy interrupted, holding up his hands. "Our client's already given us a list of his conditions."

DA Reyes smiled closed mouthed. "Mr. Nelson, have you ever negotiated a Witness Protection Agreement?" she asked, patronizingly.

"Well…speaking for my firm, I can attest that we're all very fast learners," Foggy returned the patronizing tone. She gave him a look and then glanced at her assistant. They shared a moment's look and then the assistant turned to us. He inhaled. "The District Attorney appreciates your efforts but our office will be handling the case from here," he explained.

"I'm sorry but I don't think so," I shook my head, piping up. "Grotto is _Nelson and Murdock's_ client, not yours."

"And it would be in Mr. Grote's best interest for you to recuse yourselves so he can bring in a legal team with more expertise," the assistant replied.

"You mean someone you can push around," Karen commented, under her breath.

I scoffed. "We had enough experience to handle _Wilson Fisk_."

Reyes settled her eyes on Foggy. "I'll say this once. If, God willing, your firm doesn't collapse under the weight of the chickens and the fruit baskets you've been collecting from your indigent clientele, there will come a time when you need to ask a favor of the District Attorney's office. And depending on how this situation resolves, that favor will either be forthcoming or permanently withheld. Am I making myself clear?"

"Of course," Foggy nodded once, hopeless looking.

Reyes nodded triumphantly. "Now…if we're through." She started past us, her lap dog not far behind her, her heel clicking the whole way. I looked at Foggy pleadingly. This cannot go to the DA. Not only for the law firm but for Frank. I can't believe I'm siding with a murderer.

Foggy looked at me a moment. Then he sighed and turned around. "Wait…just one sec," he caught them just a second before they could disappear around the corner. "About that favor…you wouldn't to have the number for the U.S. Attorney's office? Oh, never mind, I got it. Uh," he started scrolling through his cell phone contacts. "U.S. Department of Justice…Office of Enforcement Operations."

Reyes looked amused. "What are you doing?"

"Zealously protecting my client's rights," Foggy stepped forward. "Local DA's don't have jurisdiction over the Witness Protection Program. That's solely determined by the U.S. Attorney's office—A.K.A. the feds. Who are probably just as corrupt as you are, but at least they can deliver on their promises…and their threats. Since this really isn't working out between us maybe I should just deal with them directly?"

Foggy held up his hands in a questioning motion, not really questioning it at all. I couldn't help but smirk at the look on Reyes's face. Foggy broke out into a smile. "Kudos, by the way. The cell service in here is awesome," he held up his ringing cell phone to his ear, waiting for someone to answer on the other end.

Reyes stepped forward. "Hang up."

"Hang on," Foggy held up a finger. He turned more toward his phone. "Yes, hi. Uh…this is Franklin Nelson. Uh, yes, uh…N-E-L-"

"Hang up," Reyes repeated, sternly. Foggy did so immediately. She took another step toward him, getting up in his face a bit. "What do you want?"

"As I see it, the District Attorney's office would like to receive credit for any arrests that arise from Mr. Grote's testimony. And my client, on the other hand, could definitely use the enthusiastic endorsement of the New York DA when entering in his witpro agreement," Foggy explained, serious. "In either case, he'll be requiring legal representation, which will be _provided_ by the law firm of Nelson and Murdock. To put it in Layman's terms…cut the trash, lady. You're dealing with _us_."

I never thought I would think this but _go Foggy go_. He put the final nail in with that comment. Reyes looked at him with a bitter smile. "Let's find out if their low life client is even worth it," she said, trying to mock us, before rounding the corner and leaving. "Oh, Foggy…that was amazing!" Karen sighed in relief, putting a hand on his shoulder supportively.

"Good job, Foggy," I made a sarcastic supportive expression and held up a thumb.

"That was just round one." Foggy took a deep breath as he turned to face us. He gestured and started following the DA. Karen and I followed shortly behind him. We sat down in the interrogation room with Nelson and Murdock on one side of the table and the DA on the other, Grotto sitting at the head of the table. I sat closest to him on our side with Foggy directly to my right and Karen after that.

"I'll keep it simple," Grotto started. "Give me a deal, put up a camera—I'll tell you everything you wanna know about those Irish idiots. Names, dates, their favorite titty-bars…"

"That's not good enough," Reyes shook her head, looking at Foggy.

"That's what he's got," Foggy argued. I crossed my arms, sitting back in my chair enough to cross my legs under the table. An ache was starting to ebb in my shoulder but I swallowed it down. "Most of Mr. Grote's mob friends are either dead or fleeing the country," Reyes explained, uninterested. "If you want this office's endorsement, you'll have to give us someone who's still breathing."

"And how exactly do you expect him to do that?" I asked, flippantly.

"We would like Mr. Grote to wear a wire to meet with one of his old associates," the assistant said, sitting beside Reyes. "Our files show your organization has had dealings with one Edgar Brass."

"Brass," Grotto scoffed, standing. "You're out of your minds."

"Grotto…" I sighed, looking up at him. He gave me a look, like this whole thing was ridiculous, and honestly I felt the same way. Foggy looked to Reyes. "We need a minute with our client," he said, standing. Reyes nodded and made a gesture for us to go ahead, and I stood with Foggy. I moved with Foggy and Karen to huddle in the corner of the room with grotto. "Who's Edgar Brass?" Karen asked him.

"Drug dealing butcher who's worse by a mile. They send me after him, I'm as good as dead," Grotto crossed his arms.

"I get it, I do. But, chances are, the feds are gonna ask for the same thing," Foggy reasoned, stepping in. He turned to face Reyes. "Why Grotto?"

"Because we know your client has worked with Brass before," Reyes answered. She looked at Grotto and made a head gesture. "You got an in."

"If he could get Brass to talk, he would be instrumental in taking down a major drug ring," the assistant pointed at Grotto, looking to Foggy.

"And if he doesn't?" I asked, crossing my arms to ride out a wave of pain hitting my shoulder blade. "What happens if he decides this is all a crazy circus act?"

"Then he's free to walk away," Reyes nodded. She made a gesture to her assistant and he leaned to his left side, reaching for something on the floor beside him. "But, don't expect to get very far," he finished her statement. He dropped a stack of blue folder files on the table and went back for a second. He dropped the next pile on the table beside the first one and opened the top file up.

Karen sat in her chair, agape as she stared at the file. "What is all that?" Foggy asked. But I knew exactly what it was. A sinking feeling was churning in my gut, along with the other things I'd eaten in the last twenty-four hours—or lack thereof—threatening to come back up with a vengeance. "You could call it work product. Morgue reports generated by the shooter who attacked you in the hospital," Reyes explained.

Karen was looking through the first file in horror. "And all of these people were…were killed by the same man?"

"He's tracking gangs to their home turf and taking them out with military precision," the assistant replied, nodding. "But it doesn't stop there."

"What do you mean it _doesn't stop_?" I dared to ask, only fueling my stomach's unease.

Reyes looked up to me. "His target's aren't random, Ms. Fletcher. He knows exactly who he wants to hit," she answered, as Grotto sat across from her. "And if any of his intended marks are lucky enough to escape…?"

"Say they're off buying a sandwich or in bed with the flu…recuperating under an assumed name at Metro-General…" the assistant continued.

"Sooner or later, he gets to them, too," Reyes finished. She slapped an open file down in front of Grotto and I couldn't take it anymore. I turned away and stepped more toward the wall, one hand on my hip and the other covering my mouth. I inhaled and let my eyes fall closed.

I just talked to this man this morning. I was in his _car_. "My office is offering you a chance to save yourself," Reyes said. "Whether you take it is up to you. And your, uh… _legal_ team." Suddenly I heard a phone buzz and Reyes stepped outside the room. Karen started talking. "And the Police have _no_ idea who's doing this?" she asked, rhetorically. _I can think of who_.

"It's an on-going investigation," the assistant said. "But our intelligence people are close to completing a profile." Oh, great.

"A profile?" Foggy asked, unbelieving.

"Even got a codename."

I turned around at that. "Like what?"

"They're calling _this one_ …The Punisher." The assistant looked at me seriously while he spoke. I felt a lump in my throat. Here we go. "Hey, Aly, you okay?" Foggy asked, eyeing me. "You look a little-"

"Would you excuse me for, like, just one second?" I asked, before hurrying out of the room. I bolted down the hall and bulldozed into the first bathroom I found, then straight to a toilet. And up came my lunch from yesterday.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We lay on the couch together for what felt like forever. I think I even dosed off a few times out of sheer boredom. He lay slightly on top of me, his head on my chest, my hand running through his hair. As far as I know he still can't hear anything. How long is this going to go on for? Will it ever come back? And what if it doesn't?

I stared up at the ceiling, trying not to think of things like that. And, failing, as usual. I sighed as the time ticked on. Suddenly, Matt sighed and then pushed up off of me. "Matt?" I looked at him questioningly. He looked down at me, still kind of stunned.

He smiled. "I heard your heart beat."

I chuckled and sighed. "Oh, my goodness." He smiled and then leaned down and kissed me. He pulled back, but I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him back down, kissing him again. A knock sounded at the door. I sighed as his lips left mine. He climbed off of me and headed for the door. I sat up, stiff from being in the same position for so long.

I swung my legs off the couch and the grabbed my phone. I looked at the time. Wow. We'd been on the couch over three hours. No wonder I was sore. I heard Karen's voice at the door and sighed in mild annoyance. I stood and walked around the couch as Matt was leading her into the room. She looked up and saw me. "Hey, Dani."

"Hi, Karen. How you holding up?" I asked.

"As well as can be expected," she nodded. She looked back at Matt and then caught sight of the broken glass on the floor. "Hair of the dog that bit you?" She kicked some of the bigger pieces of glass into the corner. Matt snagged his glasses off the kitchen counter, putting them on.

"Yeah, I meant to pick that up," I said. "It's been a crazy morning."

"Yeah," she agreed. I looked passed her at Matt. Karen's growing suspicion of Matt isn't helping anything. Thankfully, I've managed to convince her that my job is dangerous. So, she doesn't ask questions when I show up to work with scratches or bruises. However, Matt is supposed to be a lawyer. Nothing too dangerous about that. Foggy's got her thinking Matt's a drunk. There are worse things, I guess.

"Now, what can you tell me about the meeting with the DA?" Matt asked. He sat down at the kitchen table. I leaned into the counter top next to him. Karen sat on the back of the couch. "Yeah, um, it's…where to begin?" she looked up at us. "Reyes showed up."

"Personally?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Any idea why?"

"Well, it wasn't to bask us in the warmth of her personality, I can tell you that."

"Yeah, Reyes wouldn't buy a pack of gum if it didn't move her political career forward."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I had a case with her a while back. It wasn't very pretty."

"Well, she wants him on a wire," Karen said. "She has him set up for a meeting with some big fish in the mob named Brass."

"And are they going to protect Grotto?" Matt asked.

"Yeah. But he's scared to death over this psycho shooter, Matt, and I can't say that I blame him. Reyes even used it for leverage. She called him 'The Punisher'."

"Well, that's fitting," I sighed.

"What do they know about him?"

"That he's very scary, but I could've told you that," Karen said. "But whatever they know, they're keeping it to themselves."

"Alright, well, that's where we start. We need to put together a file, a thorough one. Find out who this guy is, what makes him tick," Matt said. Right. Great idea. Drag them into this like you did with Fisk. I sighed as my phone rang. I got up and walked to my phone on the coffee table. I looked at the caller ID. "I need to take this," I said. It came out a little more serious than I wanted. I hurried past them and out the front door, answering the phone call. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself," I heard Clint say. "I've been hearing about what's going on in Hells' Kitchen. Do I need to come down there?"

"No, not at the moment," I sighed in exhaustion.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. But thanks for keeping tabs on me."

"It's what I do. I was planning on calling tomorrow, but Mary called. She said you might need someone who _knows_. And a shoulder to cry on, to use her words."

I chuckled. "Well, that sounds like Mary."

"But that didn't answer the question," he said. The front door opened and Karen walked out. She walked past me, offering a slight wave. I waved back, watching her leave. I turned toward the door and saw Matt looking at me. A look of concern on his face. I turned the speaker of the phone away from my mouth. "It's okay," I said. "Just Clint checking in. I'll be in in a few minutes."

He nodded and then closed the door. Though I know that means nothing. He could easily listen to our conversation if he wanted. But I'm just trusting he won't. I righted the phone and then sighed. "Yeah, I don't know, Clint. I'm not going to make you come all the way here so I can complain about my problems."

"That makes me think I should come."

"No, it's just-" I sighed and then gathered my thoughts. "Do you think what Ben told me was true?"

"Your crazy brother? No, why? You do?"

"Well, I…I didn't. But…someone broke into Alison's when she wasn't home, just me and Chase. We fought and I had a cross bow pointed at him. I wanted to aim it at his head, I wanted to shoot to kill, even though it wasn't necessary."

There was a slight pause on the other end. "Did you?"

"No, I shot him in the torso, I think. I don't know. But the point is, I _wanted_ too. And I don't even know why. And, now there's this new guy in town, the one I'm sure you've heard about. He's killing people by the dozens, leaving a trail of bodies wherever he goes. And I don't know what to do."

"Well, what does Matt say?"

"He wants him off the streets as much as I do, maybe more."

"Have you two met him yet?"

I sighed. "Matt did. It wasn't pretty."

"The hospital?"

"Yep." I looked down adjusting my stance.

"Is he okay?"

"I don't even know the answer to that. He got shot in the head, close range. He's alive, just needs to heal."

"Okay, I'm coming down."

"Clint. No, we've got it. You need to stay with your family. That's why you keep retiring."

"Yeah, but you're part of that family, too. Why is it so hard for you to remember that you have people who care about you?" Clint asked. I heard him sigh, followed by a pause. "Look, I know that we both grew up different ways, were forced to do different things. But I have my family stashed away to protect them from my past….but I'm still moving forward, and you need to do the same. Don't listen to Ben, he's an idiot. Listen to your friends, listen to Matt and Mary. As long as you have them to come home to, you'll never question why you do what you do."

I smiled to myself and then let out a long breath. "Thanks, Clint."

"Anytime, El."

"I'll call you if we need you."

"And I'll be here when you do."

I ended the call, feeling a whole lot better than I did going into it. Somehow he always knows what to say. I don't know how many times, his words have kept me going. I slipped the phone in my pocket, smiling to myself. I took a deep breath and then walked into Matt's apartment.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I pushed through the door into Angel's Café and almost instantly the smell of baked goods filled my nose. It wasn't too great on my already queasy stomach but, swallowing the urge to throw up again, I shuffled to the front counter. Mary was working on an order when I arrived. She did a double take when I finally reached her. "Whoa, what are _you_ doing? Shouldn't you be resting?" she asked, worried.

She instantly stopped working to turn to me. I exhaled, leaning my lower back into the counter's edge to face her. "Probably…I don't think I could relax even if I wanted to," I shook my head, then scrubbed my face with my hands. My shoulder twinged and I hissed, dropping my hands quickly. "And _this_ is causing problems." I rubbed my shoulder gingerly.

Mary shook her head at me. "You've got to go easier on yourself, Alison. Do you need to talk about last night?"

"No. Yes. I don't know," I sighed. "Probably, yeah. I just…I've put myself between a rock and…well, a much bigger rock. You know that guy in the ball cap that kept coming in?"

"The one that beat up a customer for kicking your cat? Yeah, I remember," she nodded, crossing her arms loosely, listening.

I inhaled. "Well…he told me he wanted me to write a story about how his family died and get it published," I continued, tiredly. I was clamming up around everyone else earlier but, in the company of Mary, I felt the need to just let it all spill out. "But I saw him last night at the hospital."

Her eyes widened. "Was he hurt?"

"No—he was the shooter," I admitted, hushing my tone. I didn't think her eyes could get much wider—but they did. She paused, pointing at my shoulder. "But…so…he…?" she stammered, in shock. I nodded and she clapped a hand over her mouth. She looked around, and then stepped closer, hushing her tone as well. "Did you tell the police?" she asked, urgently.

I shook my head. "No…" I sounded guilty, like _I'd_ committed the crime. And, actually, I think I probably have. _Obstruction of justice_ being a big one just off the top of my head—one that could get me in a lot of trouble. "Why not?" Mary questioned, raising her voice in an almost-shriek. She looked around again, realizing she was being too loud, and went quiet again. "Why didn't you tell them while you were there?"

"Because he came to talk to me this morning," I said, to which her eyes rounded again. I nodded, pursing my lips. "I know."

"You didn't talk to him, though, did you?" I smiled a little, completely guilty, and her jaw dropped open, giving me a look. "Alison…," she admonished, more teasing than anything. "You _didn't_." I nodded again, rubbing my shoulder with my uncrossed arm. "I did—and I probably shouldn't have, because it got me nowhere," I tossed up my hand in a frustrated gesture.

"What did he want?" she asked, curiously. She was too invested now to turn back and ignore me.

"Basically to tell me, in so many words, that nothing that happened was his fault. And if I want nothing else like that to happen, Dani and Matt will just have to let him continue to butcher people," I explained, calmly. "But, Mary, I don't know…when he was here at the Café, and even this morning—he doesn't _act_ like a serial killer. He doesn't _act_ crazy. At the hospital, Karen and I were going into the stairwell but, I looked back…"

"And…?" Mary prodded, eager.

I shook my head, exhaling. "I don't know…I saw him and he saw me…and he lowered his gun, Mary. He kept coming—but he wasn't going to _shoot_ me. Why would a serial killer do that? Why would someone who was _actually_ crazy come back here wanting to talk to me after something like last night?"

She shrugged once, apologetic. "I don't know. I wish I did. Maybe you just need to get some sleep? Why don't you go upstairs, take some aspirin, drink some water, and just sit down a while? I can cover down here."

"Yeah…" I nodded, mulling it over. Aspirin sounds really good right about now. "Okay. Thank you, Mary. Oh- and, can we keep this between us? Just until I can find the right time to tell Dani?"

"Of course. My lips are sealed." She made the locked lips motion—her fingers sliding across her closed lips, then jutting behind her head like she threw away the keys—and then smiled. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her shoulders in a hug, and she quickly returned it. "I love you, Mary," I closed my eyes.

"I love you, too, Alison," I could hear the smile in her voice. I stepped back and returned the smile as best as I could, then headed for the stairs. Pain killers and a short break. Maybe that's all I need to see things clearly? Just less stress and no pain? If only it were that easy.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

We dropped Matt's mask off with Potter for repair. It sounds like it was a closer call than any of us would've wanted. It was slightly unnerving. But he said it'd take a couple days to make a new one. In the mean time, he patched up the old one. Though right now, all it's good for is keeping his identity a secret. I wanted to head home after that, but Matt can't rest when there's work to be done.

And, I'm not letting him go anywhere alone. We still have no idea why he lost his hearing earlier, or if it'll happen again. But right now, we're currently traipsing through the crime scene of the Irish massacre. The Punisher blew the place to kingdom come. You know, the more I say that name, the more I realize just how appropriate it is.

It's very ominous, yet you know it's not someone you want to mess with. And he's not. I have no idea what the Irish did to him, but I'm sure they're regretting it. Same thing with the Mexican Cartel. The crime scene was still very new. Blood and broken things were everywhere. Thankfully the bodies were gone. I don't think that's something I'd like to see.

Matt walked around, in a black hoddie. I wore my Angel attire. He was searching for clues in a way only he could. From what I could see, there were no clues. The police had done their job and even they couldn't find anything. Matt started wondering out of the room and out the back of the building. I took one last glance around, disgusted at what was left.

I shook my head and then followed Matt. I found him out back, behind the building. He was crouched down by the fence. "Find something?" I asked.

"There was a dog here," he said, turning his head to the left. "It was hurt."

"You think The Punisher took the dog?" I asked skeptically. He stood, looking at me like I was ridiculous. He's not found of giving our bad guys codenames. "What? What would you like to call him?" He shook his head and then went back to what he was doing, slowly walking down the alley. "You really think a mass murderer like this, is going to rescue the poor dog?"

"It didn't unchain it's self."

"True." I nodded, then followed. He kept stopping every so often, checking the blood trail. I didn't need to smell it, I could see it. Small patches of blood on the side walk, here and there. I hung back staying in the shadows. Angel would just draw unwanted attention, right now. Matt stopped at the corner of the sidewalk. Some guy was hosing down the pavement. Well, there goes that trail.

I sighed, about ten feet back so the guy wouldn't see me. But Matt was still concentrating on something. He turned left and continued walking. I skirted around the guy and followed. Matt stopped about two blocks down and stared up at one of the residential buildings. I finally caught up to him. "What is it?"

"A police radio, coming from inside the building."

"You think it's him?"

"Only one way to find out." He took a step forward and I grabbed his arm. He looked up at me questioningly. "I'm fine."

"You sure? I don't think you should be fighting anyone, so soon," I said.

"That's why you're here." I knew he was just saying that to please me, to get me to let him go. And I did. I know he won't be able to resist getting into the fight if we encountered The Punisher. But there's no way I can stop him. Matt nodded and then continued, walking into the building. I sighed and followed him.

I followed him up a few flights of stairs and then down a long hallway. This was one of the more trashy buildings in town. Perfect for lying low. It gives you the ability to come home covered in someone else's blood, and no one will ask questions. We walked up to a door and Matt stopped. "Anyone home?"

"No," he said.

"Good." I reached into my pocket and pulled out my lock picking kit. Within a few seconds I had the door unlocked. I pushed it open and Matt walked in. A dog started barking and charged at us as we entered. It was pulled back by a chain, stopping a few feet away. I sighed. So, he did keep the dog. Okay…? That's weird.

Matt quieted the dog as I looked around. My mouth fell open. Yeah, we're in the right place. The dog stopped barking as I moved further in. "Is it as bad as I think?" Matt asked.

"Worse," I swallowed. Where did this guy get this stuff? "Shotguns, military grade weapons. Grenades, home made bombs. Several different handguns, AR-15's, AK-47's, a machine gun," I said, picking up the long trail of bullets that hung out the back of it. I looked around some more. "A few different kinds of silencers. And a lot of ammo. Like, too much ammo."

"What do you think?"

"That he's prepared for a war. Just not sure who with. I mean, I could equip fifty S.H.I.E.L.D. agents with all this, and still have some left over. I have half a mind to call Coulson and have him come take these." I turned around, taking it all in. The police radio played in the background of my mind. "Oh, look," I pointed, "a rocket launcher." I sighed. "This just keeps getting better."

"Reyes. Are we in position? Over." I turned and looked at the radio. It'd captured Matt's attention, too. We both walked over closer to it and listened.

"Eyes on Brass. He's moving," a male voice said. "He's moving northeast to the warehouse."

"How far out?" the woman asked.

"Five minutes."

"Sending in Grote in five."

I looked up at Matt. "He knows where Grotto is."


	9. Bait and Switch

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Grotto scoffed. "This is the wire you want me to wear? Why don't I just carry a video camera with me and a guy with a boom mic?" I sighed, leaning my butt into the table behind me and crossing my arms. The man finished wiring Grotto and ambled away. "Relax a bit, will you? You'll be fine," I assured. He grumbled something I couldn't make out and started fumbling with the buttons on his white dress shirt.

His fingers were a bit shaky, causing him to have a little trouble with the first two. I stood and stepped across the three feet between us and started buttoning the shirt. He dropped his hands to his sides with a heavy sigh but let me help. I felt like I was dressing a child. Back when Chase was a lot smaller. Or when James was leaving for work and for the life of him his tie could never quite look right without a little adjusting.

I finished buttoning and took a step back. "There you go."

"Everything's set on our end," Reyes said, coming back into the dank room they'd set us up in.

"Well, good for you, lady. Me? I got some serious reservations about this stuff," Grotto replied, not impressed.

Reyes looked to Foggy beside her with a tired expression. "Should I be concerned?" Foggy looked like he couldn't decide on what to say. He turned to Grotto and took a step toward him. "All we need is for Brass to admit he's dealing drugs again," he reminded him. "Okay? He doesn't have to say where, he doesn't have to say to who. Just get him to confirm it. Alright? Don't make it the first question—don't even make it the second one—get there organically. He's got no reason not to trust you."

"No? Look at this thing! It's like an eight track player around my neck," grotto adjusted his shirt nervously.

"You came to us for a deal, Grotto. You wanna walk, walk. We can always find someone else," Reyes said, seeming bored. "After recent events, we've got plenty of exciting prospects. Lots of low-lives looking to get out of the crime business for good."

Grotto looked down a second. "I don't doubt that."

"Good. You know where we stand then," she looked to Foggy. "Maybe you should do some counseling, Counselor." She motioned with a finger for one of her men and they followed her into the next room. I gave a grumbling sigh. "Maybe you should learn to be a human being, you witch," I mumbled.

"Alison," Foggy gave me a look.

I scoffed. "Don't give me that look, Nelson. Grotto may be a criminal with incredibly low standards but, just like everyone else in this room, he's a human being that deserves respect. If she uses the term _low-life_ one more time, I'm going to grab her by her ridiculously over-permed curls and-"

"Thanks for the support, doll," Grotto interrupted. "But I'm afraid this is as good as it gets."

"He's right. This isn't a deal you walk away from," Foggy agreed.

"Not alive, no," Grotto commented, causing Foggy to turn away with a heavy sigh.

Karen finally spoke up, exhaling. "You get them Brass and they get you away from the psychopath hunting you."

"It's not just him—what if it's Brass that puts a bullet in me?" Grotto asked, raising his voice in anxiousness. "What if the Irish got wind I'm doing this?"

"They didn't. When Fisk went away, so did a lot of corrupt cops. No one's palms are getting greased anymore," Karen assured.

Foggy nodded. "We're getting you out. Clean."

"Doesn't feel like getting out. It feels like getting in. Deeper than before," Grotto shook his head.

"That's why we're here, Grotto. You're in the clear," I assured, earning a disbelieving but hopeful look from him. I nodded once. "This is your second chance. Just let the other guy do all the talking and he'll incriminate himself. You'll walk outta there alive."

He was quiet a minute, looking down with a thoughtful expression. Anyone with eyes could tell he was completely on edge. But at least he was seriously thinking about it. Finally, after a minute, he nodded. "Fine," he agreed. Foggy nodded and pulled out a file from his satchel. He held it up. "These are your orders for Witness Protection. Golden ticket," he said.

"It's legally binding until midnight," Karen added.

"Upon which, if not executed, they turn into the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown," Foggy smiled a little.

Grotto frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," Foggy waved it away with a sigh. Just then, the ADA came around the corner form the next room. I held my breath. "Time to go," he announced. Grotto quickly started tucking his shirt hem into his pants. He grumbled, "Bet these losers are sending me to Florida."

"Actually, they are," Karen pursed her lips.

"Did I tell you I hate Florida?" he asked, absentmindedly.

Foggy nodded once. "Only about a thousand times." Grotto finished with his shirt and stood up straight. He took in a deep breath, exhaled, then turned toward me and Karen. "Thank you—both of you," he said, genuinely, with a short nod.

"You're welcome, Lucky Charms," I nodded once in return. Karen had a small smile on her face as she nodded back as well. Then, looking more toward me, Grotto smiled a little. "Kiss for good luck, doll?" he asked, a hopeful undertone to his voice. I chuckled once in a humorless way and held out my hand. "Give me your hand," I said. He did as told and dropped his hand in mine. Then I leaned down a bit and gave a small peck to his knuckles.

I dropped his hand and looked back up at him. He was looking at me somewhat weird. I smiled with a small shrug. "You didn't say where."

"I'll take it," he chuckled a little—mostly seemingly from the nerves—and gave a small nod, then headed off to the other room with the ADA. I turned to the others. Foggy had a plain expression that said he cared but wasn't going to show it and Karen was smirking. "What?" I asked her, innocently.

"Nothing," she shook her head. "I think he likes you."

"Yeah, too bad for him, though. I'm not interested in falling for the bad guy." I returned the look she was give me and she laughed a little. She hooked her arm with mine and Foggy lead the way to the other room, where the DA had cameras and computers set up to monitor what was going on outside. My stomach was threatening to somersault into knots but I swallowed it down and sat in a chair beside Foggy in front of the screens.

Grotto was outside on the street, heading into the back alley area in front of the warehouse. "It's showtime. Target's inside perimeter," Reyes said, calmly, watching her screen intently. Foggy screwed up his face and glanced over at her questioningly. "Target?" he asked.

"Only an expression, Nelson," she assured. "Don't get your panties in a bunch." On the screen, Grotto stopped walking beside the warehouse camera, and the screen focused in on that angle. He was just standing there nervously. I folded my arms in my lap and crossed my legs, gripping the ends of my sleeves. It was Dani's Angel jacket. The blue leather was a lot more soothing than you'd think—and not to mention a confidence boost.

Reyes narrowed her eyes at her screen. "What is he doing?"

"Uh, from the look of the thing, I'd say he's probably trying not to poop his pants," Karen replied, a bit snippy. She stood on the opposite side of the table from me, watching a screen over some technician's shoulder. Grotto finally started talking on screen. "Yo, Brass! It's me, Grotto. Cut the spook act and say something already!" he shouted, to no reply. My eye brows narrowed as my eyes scanned the screen in anticipation.

There was a long pause of silence. Grotto whirled and eyed the camera a second, then looked back around at the alley area. "You don't wanna deal, fine!" he started walking slowly. "Find someone else stupid enough to buy H off you!" Suddenly someone became visible by the entrance to an open shipping crate across the cement. "Good one, loser. Let's get this over with, I've got place I gotta be tonight," Grotto started across to the crate.

He followed whoever it was inside and disappeared. "We lost visual," the technician announced.

"And sound! I can't hear him anymore," Foggy pointed out.

Reyes fiddled, pressing some buttons before moving back to her screen. "Probably just interference from the metal in the shipping crate."

"Most likely, ma'am," the tech agreed. "We'll, uh, try adjusting the gain on it." The technicians started working and I sighed, shaking my head. This was the stupidest idea ever. Trusting that witch of a DA is going to get Grotto killed. Karen and Foggy shared a look. "Roger that, Charlie One. Overwatch positions, check in by numbers," the tech said, into his microphone headset.

"What exactly is an Overwatch position?" Foggy questioned, holding up his hands.

Reyes glared at him. "Let the police do their job." I rolled my eyes and reached across Foggy's lap, slamming my finger into an audio button on the control console between him and Reyes. Voices immediately filtered in. " _Charlie Three is set. Clear fields of fire in sectors one and five. Over_ ," someone said.

" _Charlie Four is set. Clear fields of_ -"

Reyes quickly pressed the button, shutting it off. I scoffed. "'Fields of fire' doesn't sound like cop-talk to me," Karen put a hand on her hip, glaring daggers at Reyes beside me. "That sounds like you're planning an ambush." Suddenly it hit me. _No_. _No, no, no, no, no_. I stood, taking a deep breath, and stepped around Karen to get some space.

"Really? You're using my client as _bait_ for The Punisher?" Foggy questioned, full of dry attitude.

"Probably the first useful thing your client's ever done in his life-"

I whirled to face them, furious and way too anxious. "Oh, shut up, you glorified seat-warmer. Whatever _plan_ you think you have nailed in for tonight—it's not going to work. You hear me? It's going to _fail_ and _you're_ going to be the one stuck answering for why this even happened to begin with when we decide to sue."

"Couldn't said it better myself," Karen agreed, joining my stance a few feet away from the table.

Foggy stood abruptly. "This ends now. We're getting Grotto out of there." Suddenly the ADA ran up, sweating and panting, looking extremely disconcerted. He held a radio up in his hand. "We have a situation on Tac channel one, ma'am!" he squirmed.

" _Target is inbound_ ," his radio blurted. " _Repeat, target is inbound_."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We'd hurried back to Matt's, so he could change into his costume. I don't like the idea of him, or me, going out there so soon. But it sounds like Grotto is going to need some help. The Punisher knows exactly where the DA has Grotto. And so far, The Punisher hasn't left any witnesses behind.

Matt came around the corner, full dressed as Daredevil. His mask still had the crack in it, but Potter was able to weld it closed. "Let's go," he said. We started heading for the roof access, when my phone rang. I grunted and then pulled it out. Matt stopped and looked back at me. "It's Mary," I said. I answered it and put it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Dani, I need your help," she said, sounding exhausted.

"What's wrong?"

"Elizabeth has two ear infections and won't stop screaming, and Chase…" she sighed in annoyance. "I don't know what happened. He was fine one second and then the next he was throwing up everywhere. He's been going nonstop for the last hour." She sounded despite. I looked at Matt. This can't be happening. "I already tried Alison and she's not picking up. Can you please come over and help me? It's, like, a vomit war zone over here."

"Let me call you right back." I quickly hung up and then looked at Matt. He opened his mouth to speak, right as I said, "No."

"Dani, I'll be fine."

"You're crazy! Why would I knowingly let you face The Punisher alone? Mary can handle it-"

"Come on, Dani. You know she only asks for your help when she's exhausted all other possibilities," he said.

"This is life or death here, Matt, not a kid puking in a toilet." We stared at each other, neither one wanting to budge.

"Go. Help her," he said softly. "I'll be fine."

"You know, every time you say that you're not." I stopped and sighed. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" He walked up to me and kissed me.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My heart lurched into my throat. I quickly sat back down—mostly for fear my knees would buckle from the airy feeling in my chest—and glued my eyes to the computer screen. A second of quiet and the cab of a semi came barreling into the alley area. It took heavy fire from the cops on the ground and I covered my mouth with my hand.

My body jolted a little when it slammed head on into a bunch of barrels and equipment. The cops kept firing a moment after it'd stopped moving. But then they stopped and a few of the cops came into view of the camera, heading toward the semi. They swung open the door. " _It's not him, it's a diversion_!" came over the radio.

Reyes grumbled, "The trash knew it was a trap."

My whole body flooded with some relief, but I was still wound tighter than a ball of rubber bands. _Frank, please. Please don't touch Grotto. Better yet just go home_. Nothing happened for a long pause. And then suddenly the cops started firing as the water tower near the back of the yard gained a few holes, spewing water out like rain. Karen ran to the window. "Grotto's getting away! We have to go get him," she urged.

She turned and Foggy shot up, standing in her way. "No! You can't go out there," he protested.

"Foggy-"

"This place is about to become a warzone," Foggy reasoned. "I know it's awful. But the safest place to be is in this room right now."

"What is that?" I heard Reyes say. "Status report. What's going on out there?"

"Target acquired," someone on the radio replied.

"You know what to do," Reyes said, causing my eyes to round.

"Negative. We do not, I repeat, we do not have a clean target," the officer said. I couldn't look away from the screen, the images making my lungs stop working. Daredevil was laying it on thick with what I could tell was Frank, just behind a brick wall. "You know what to do," Reyes pushed, speaking into her microphone. "Take the shot!"

"No," Foggy whimpered, quietly. The cops started firing. No, no, no. I scrubbed a hand over my face and quickly stood, rushing to the window. My fingers held down the blinds while I peered out at the scene below. Daredevil and Frank tousled violently. Frank grabbed Daredevil, hefted him up, and dropped him over a glass skylight. The two went crashing through and I gasped.

I didn't even think, I just ran. I bolted past the table, just barely slipping past Foggy before he could stop me, and lunged through the door. I ran along the sidewalk and around the side of the warehouse, then through the fence and across the yard. It wasn't hard to ignore the pain erupting in my shoulder. My mind was too focused on finding Matt. "Alison!" I heard Foggy calling from not too far off behind me.

But I kept running. I caught site of one of Matt's lone sticks lying on the pavement not far from the skylight. I ran straight into the small group of cops hovering next to where Matt and Frank disappeared. My elbows dug in, shoving people out of the way. "Move!" I pushed through to the front and quickly stopped before I could fly right over the edge. A second later, Foggy appeared at my side. My eyes scanned the floor.

Glass pieces and particles covered the cement a good seven or eight feet below. Nothing but a smear of blood left of the vigilantes on the floor. My heart was beating way too fast and my hands were shaking. The pain in my shoulder was white hot. Foggy grabbed my arm and pulled me back one step. I was too close to the edge for comfort as it is, but I would never be able to move myself.

So, I was thankful for the gesture. I just couldn't make myself actually say anything. "Ground floor clear," an officer said.

Another came into view below. "They're gone. Repeat, they're gone." I let my eyes close and took in a deep breath. _Come on, Alison. Buck up_. What would those guys at S.H.I.E.L.D. do? They would do whatever they could to find and neutralize the threat. I don't know why Dani wasn't here with Matt tonight. But maybe there's a chance she could come out?

What am I even saying? I can't count on that. And, if Dani finds Frank first, I know exactly what she'll do and it is _far_ from anything good. I inhaled and turned to Foggy. "Come on," I nodded, starting back toward the warehouse, out of the crowd.

Foggy quickly trailed behind me. "Where are you going?"

"You need to go back to Matt's and see if Dani's there—get her up to speed and rally the troops," I said, lecturously, walking just a foot ahead of him. He put a hand on my arm and I stopped turning to face him. The wind blew my hair in my face and I quickly swiped it behind my ear. "What are _you_ going to do?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm going to find The Punisher— _and_ Daredevil," I replied.

Foggy looked mortified. "What? No! You can't go out there alone, after that psycho!"

"Foggy, it's not your job to worry about me anymore," I said, looking him in the eye. "Get to Dani while _I_ give us a head start. I can take care of myself." With that, I turned and headed to the street. I honestly had no idea where I was going to go. Frank never shared his hide-out information with me. And yet _I_ shared that information with him. I'm convinced I have no idea what I'm doing with this guy.

After this, I'm coming clean, and I'm turning him in. Because this is getting really ridiculous. He needs help from mental health professionals. And, hopefully, I can find him before Dani does and then maybe he'll last long enough to get help?


	10. The Punisher

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

Mary wasn't kidding. There really was puke EVERYWHERE. After I got Chase camped out in the bathroom, huddled next to the toilet, I then started on Lizzie. Her meds were helping a little but she still wouldn't quiet. It took a good half hour to get her down. And finally there was peace. Well…for us. I don't know what to think about Chase. We started taking shifts watching him.

I plopped down on the couch and then laid my read back. I really hope it wasn't a mistake coming here. A faint banging filled my ears and I sighed. I stood as Mary entered the room. "Who would that be?" she asked.

"Pray it's a drunk guy." She looked at me funny as I walked past her. I headed down the stairs and to the café's door. I opened it and Foggy rushed in. He was frantic, a crazy look in his eye. My heart went up in my throat as I had flashbacks to this morning. "Dani!"

"What's wrong?"

"It's Matt. He and The Punisher fought. Now no one knows where either is. They just vanished," he said. I sighed and cruised myself. I knew I should've gone with him. I'm such an idiot for listening to him. Why did I do that? "Where were you? You're not bleeding, this time."

"It's a long story. Just…check the hospitals, just in case." I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on. "Where's Alison?"

"She went looking for them."

"What?!"

"I know-"

"Why didn't you stop her?"

"Why weren't you with Matt?" he spat back. I glared at him till I felt satisfied. I turned and then left. I drove as fast as I could to my place and then change into the correct apparel. I pinged Alison's phone and then began the trek across town. She was stupid for going alone, I was stupid for listening to Matt, Matt was stupid for even suggesting I leave him, and Foggy…well Foggy's just stupid.

About ten minutes later, I arrived at where she should be. I looked over the edge of the roof. Sure enough, there she was. She was walking down the side walk, dawning my old leather jacket. I knew I shouldn't have given her that thing. Now I've created a monster. We don't need another vigilante. Especially, not Alison.

I jumped across to the next roof and then quickly shimmied down the fire escape. I landed in the alley and then waited for her to walk by. As soon as she did, I snagged her, pulling her into the alley with me. She let out a muffled scream. "Oh, cool your jets," I said, pushing her away from me.

She whipped around, completely frazzled. "What was that for?"

"That was to prove that you're not ready to go looking for a serial killer on your own," I said. "You should've heard me."

"Right," she sighed. "I take it you haven't found them?"

"No."

"Where were you? Why weren't you there?"

"I was with your son…worst mistake of my life," I bobbed on my toes. "His face is currently plastered to a toilet seat, right now. But we- I need to find Matt and The Punisher. You go home." I turned to leave.

"Wait, Dani!"

I turned around and glared. "Does the costume mean nothing to you?"

She rolled her eyes and then continued. "I need to ask you something. Well, I need to tell you something, then ask you."

"Out with it, woman."

"Okay. There's no easy way to say this," she paused, building suspense. I wanted her to just spit it out. "I know the man you attacked you at my place…and I know who The Punisher is." My mouth fell open. I looked at her dumbfounded. What is she talking about? "His name is Frank, he's a regular at Angel's. He wanted me to write a story for him. About what happened to his family."

"Wha-" I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Why am I just now learning about this? You knew the whole time? We could've prevented this whole night from happening."

"I know, I just…I didn't know how to tell you-"

"It's easy! You come up to me and say, 'Hey, Dani, just so you know, the guy that shot you in my apartment is also the same guy killing _dozens_ of people and, oh, yeah, _trying to kill your boyfriend'_. See how easy that was?"

She crossed her arms, annoyed. "Yes," she said bitterly.

"What happened to his family?"

"I don't know. But they're all dead." She shrugged. "But I need you to do me a favor."

"What?"

"Don't hurt him."

"Oh, my-" I turned around walking a few steps, my hands on my head. I faced her again, dropping my hands. "Are you crazy? 'Don't hurt him'? Alison, do you not know what he's done? He's killed people in the most terrible ways, he shot me, he's got Matt right now as we speak. And you want me to, what? Ask nicely? I don't know who you think he is, but he's not going down without a fight."

"I know. Fine, then don't kill him," she looked at me. Her face said one thing, yet her eyes said another. "Can you at least do that?" I stared back at her. Why am I even debating this? "Please, Dani. He's not right, he needs help."

"He needs to pay for what he's done."

"So you won't kill him?"

I huffed. "No, I won't."

"Thank yo-"

"But," I pointed a finger at her. "If he's hurt Matt, I can't make any promises." She looked like she understood, but she didn't like it. "Go home." I turned and walked away. I heard Alison call from behind me, "Where are you going?"

"Hell," I smiled at her and then took off running down the alley. I jumped from a stack of crates to a dumpster, then leapt up to a ladder. I climbed it to the roof and then continued running. I don't want Alison following so that's why I gave her a vague answer. But it was half right. I tried to trace Matt's cell before I left my place but the phone's either dead or destroyed. I'm betting on the last one.

So I got the location of the last tower it pinged. Which just so happens to be a mile from the Dogs of Hell. Coincidence? I don't think so. They were one of the first places The Punisher hit when he moved to town. I ran as fast as I could, jumping across roof tops. Until, finally, I made it. I stood adjacent to the Dogs of Hell.

Something moved out of the corner of my eye and I ducked. I looked a little closer and saw a man walking on the roof next to mine. I clenched my jaw as anger threatened to take over. That's him. The Punisher. Or Frank, according to Alison. I still can't believe she didn't tell me about him. I sighed and then moved to the corner of the roof.

I slipped out my grappling hook and then launched it at a billboard next to the building. I latched onto it and then I jumped off the edge, swinging just below the billboard. I can up on the other side and landed on the roof. I quickly rolled behind a brick wall and then froze. I stayed still for thirty seconds, making sure he didn't hear me. I peaked around the corner. Nothing.

I sighed and then unlatched the grappling hook. I tucked it away and then pulled out my bow. I left it folded down, for ease of movement. I slowly and quietly made my way closer, taking my time not to reveal myself before I wanted. I got as close as I could and then stopped. I peeked around the brick wall.

Frank was walking around, pacing. Open boxes of ammo were lying around. My eyes flicked to the right and I saw Daredevil. He was on the ground chained to a brick pillar. He looked unconscious, from here. I looked back at Frank. Ugh. I hate calling him that. Makes him sound human. Anyway…'Frank' was dressed in black. He turned to the side and I could see the vest on his chest. What is he up to?

Daredevil started to wake up. He looked around and then raised his right hand. A gun was taped to it. Oh no. This can't be good. There is no way Matt's going to shoot someone. Frank walked in front of him, looking around. ".357, one round in the chamber," he said. I sighed. "Some things, they just…they feel right in your hand, huh? I know what you're thinking, Red. You could put a round in my arm, in my leg, but it's not gonna work cause I'm all geared up. Only way to stop me is with a head shot."

Yeah, right. That's not going to happen. "I'm not gonna shoot you," Daredevil said.

"Nope. Not yet, you're not." He walked out of sight. I heard a door open and then a second later he came back into view. "Time to put a face to all your fancy talk about redemption. Elliot Grote, A.K.A Grotto." Frank drug him across the roof. I sighed, this isn't good. Then he threw him. Grotto bounced and rolled a few times. He finally came to a rest, saying, "I don't wanna die."

"What did you do to him?" Daredevil yelled.

"I caught this piece of trash stealing a car, trying to skip town."

"I was scared," Grotto said. "I'm sorry, I was running for my life."

"Shut up," he hit him.

"Stop it, Frank," Daredevil said. "He doesn't deserve to die just because you caught him stealing cars."

"Is that what you think?"

"It's up to the law, not me and not you!"

"Why don't you tell him a little bit about yourself," Frank said to Grotto.

"You have no right to do this!"

"I'm nothing," Grotto said. "I'm just nobody."

"Oh, yeah? That all?" Frank asked.

"I pour their drinks. I drive their cars."

"You were doing a little more than that a few months ago."

"What are you trying to prove, Frank?" Daredevil asked.

"You're trying to step up." Frank ignored him and punched Grotto. He wanted Grotto to talk, but why?

"No," Grotto said.

"No?"

"Who are you?"

"Lafayette Street, 2nd floor. Why don't you tell him what happened?"

"Please, I'm sorry. Please, please, I'm sorry."

"You tell him now."

"Frank, I'm not gonna shoot you. Frank," Daredevil said as Frank punched Grotto again. I sighed.

"Nothing happened, I'm sorry," Grotto said. Frank pulled out a gun. He cocked it and then put it to his head, "I'm only gonna ask you one more time."

"I didn't know! It was an address! This guy, I didn't even know his name. He…he got wobbly with the wrong people, owed something to somebody, 'cause the order came from on high."

"Yeah? What orders?"

"The sort you can't say no to."

"Say the words!" He grabbed Grotto by the collar and then punched him with the gun. "You say it, do you hear me?" He hit him again.

"You don't understand these animals. You can't back out. You can't…" And again.

"Just shut up! Stop talking Grotto," Daredevil said.

"You say it," Frank punched him again, letting him fall to the ground. He walked up to him and put his boot on his throat. "I won't ask again." He pointed the gun at his head. "Say the words!"

"I did it, I killed him!" Grotto said. I sighed and dropped my head. "I killed him. I put two in his head."

"No," Daredevil said. I looked back up.

Frank stomped on his stomach. I heard something crack as Grotto screamed. "I didn't know…I didn't know the old lady was in the house."

"What old lady? What did you do?"

"I didn't know she was in the house. She wasn't supposed to be in the house. She started screaming. I begged her to stop," Grotto said. I looked from Daredevil to Frank. His eyes were locked onto Daredevil. He almost looked satisfied. Oh…if only Alison knew exactly what it was she wanted me to save.

"What did you do?"

"She saw my face. I had no choice."

Daredevil bowed his head. I know that's not what he wanted to hear. Frank walked away from Grotto, staring at Daredevil. "Old lady left a husband. Dead man, wife and kids." Daredevil raised the gun and pointed it at Frank. He only held it for a few seconds before dropping it, defeated.

"You gotta understand me," Grotto said. "I had to do it." Frank looked at Daredevil, then Grotto and back again. "You still think this trash is worth saving?"

Daredevil looked up at Frank. "I am not gonna shoot him."

Frank paused a minute. "Yeah, okay." I've had enough. I stepped out and took a few steps closer before stopping. Frank had his gun on me in a second. "Well, well. If it isn't the other vigilante," he said. Daredevil looked at me, almost shocked. Either that he didn't know I was here or that I found him to begin with. "I've met the Devil so many times, I was starting to wonder when I'd run into his Angel."

"Funny," I said. "But we've met before." He looked puzzled, trying to recall the moment I was talking about. "What is it you want with the Fletchers? It can't just be to tell the world about your dead family." He looked angered at that last part. "I've been listening for the last few minutes. You and I are more alike than you think."

"Oh, and how's that?"

"We both lost someone we cared about in a tragic and horrible way. A way that will never ever leave us. And while you're hoping one day it will…a part of you is begging it not too. Because once it's gone, so are they." He slightly lowered his gun, looking confused and sympathetic at the same time. "They were killed right in front of you. Leaving behind the worst last memory anyone could ask for. And you…" my train of thought was momentarily derailed. I exhaled and got it back on track. "You saw it coming and yet you were still powerless to stop it."

He stared at me sincerely. Then something flashed across his eyes and he brought the gun back up. "Just because you looked into my past doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah, but I didn't. I only know your first name, and even that I only found out on the way over here," I said. "No. I know that because, what I'm seeing in your eyes, right now…it's the same look I see every day when I look in the mirror." His eyes softened but the gun stayed level. Grotto lay on the floor feet away, confused. Daredevil sat a few feet to my right, looking borderline dumbfounded. I've never told anyone that. I have no idea why I told him.

"Let me guess," I said, "these mobs and cartels you've been taking out...people think you're killing because you can, because you're a sick person. But I think I understand, now. Who you kill…it's not revenge. It's not justice. It's punishment. The punishment you feel they deserve for killing your family."

I knew I'd hit the nail on the head. He looked shocked. But he also looked saddened. Like at any moment he might cry. Now I know why he took the dog. His eyes and face hardened. His grip tightened on the gun. "That's cute," he said. "Try and change the subject all you want," he pointed the gun at Grotto, "but he's still dying, tonight."

"And if he does, so will you," I said. His head snapped back in my direction. "I don't know what you said," I shook my head, flicked my wrist and expanded my bow, "but you've got quite the fangirl at the café."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. She found me tonight, begged me not to hurt you." He looked shocked and intrigued. "I told her it deepened on what you did to him," I pointed at Daredevil. "So then she made me promise not to kill you. You see, you're not the only one whose killed people because that's what your orders were. A few I had to kill…but there are a few I'm sure I didn't. Anyway…she knows I can be unpredictable sometimes."

"Who are you?" he asked skeptically. I pulled an arrow out of my quiver and casually put it in to place.

"I'm the Angel of Hell's Kitchen, you Neanderthal."

He thought for a minute. And then it clicked. He looked madder than I've ever seen. "You!" he spat. He walked over to Grotto and drug him up to his feet, then putting the gun to his head. "The babysitter, huh?"

"Hey, everyone's got a day job."

"The last time we met, you put an arrow in my chest!"

"And you put a bullet in mine!" I said. "Bygones?" He threw Grotto to the side, charging at me. He pointed the gun at me and fired continuously. I ducked and rolled to the side. I came up on one knee and aimed. I pulled back the string and released it in the blink of an eye. He pulled the trigger as I did. My arrow hit him in the left shoulder, on his vest. His bullet skimmed my left arm. It didn't go too far in, barely a scratch, but the force of the bullet slammed me into the ground.

I sighed and pushed off the ground. I got to my feet as Frank was pulling out the arrow. A string of blood hit the floor. "Yeah," I said. "Next time…make sure your gear's arrow proof." I ran up to him and planned on planting my feet in his chest and then back flipping off. I got my feet in his chest, but he grabbed my ankles.

I changed the move and let gravity pull us down. He slammed into the ground as I rolled forward. I quickly moved, wrapping my legs around his neck. I started squeezing. He pulled a gun out of his belt and brought it up. I smacked it out of his hands as he pulled the trigger.

He then grabbed me and began to sit up. He forced himself backwards, slamming me into the ground. I instinctively let go. I rolled onto my back as he got on top of me, pinning me down. His hands pressed my wrists hard into the ground. We were both out of breath. He hovered above me, staring. He was enjoying this way too much.

I flung my head forward and slammed it into his face. Then I pulled my knees up into my chest and pushed him off of me, over my head. He slammed into the brick wall behind me. I quickly stood as he pulled out another gun. How many does this guy have on him?

I ran forward. He pulled the trigger and I dodged to the side. I recovered and then proceeded to take the gun from him. Once I had it, I smacked him across the face with it. He was still awake, unfortunately. I groaned, my shoulder aching. I put the gun in my right hand and then pointed it at him. I panted. "Happy now?"

His eyes were daggers, staring at me. In the blink of an eye he tackled me. I pulled the trigger, hitting his vest. We rolled a few feet before coming to a rest. He was on top of me again, this time straddling my torso. Somehow he'd gotten the gun. He pointed it at my face. The barrel hovered two inches from my skin.

He looked proud of himself. Like he'd just won. Only then were the rest of my surroundings coming into focus. I heard Daredevil pulling violently at the chains. "This is it, Red," he puffed. Out of breath his voice was still sure of itself. I heard the chains stop. We were only about four feet away from him.

"Shoot me," Frank said, pressing the barrel of the gun into my mask, "or I blow her head off."

"No," Daredevil said. I glanced over at him. He was clearly freaking out. Will he actually do it? If he kills Frank, he'd never be able to live with himself. If he didn't and I died, he'd never be able to live with himself. Two different options with the same outcomes. But in one of them, I'm still alive.

"I'm losing patience, Red."

"Don't you dare shoot her."

"Take the shot."

"Go to Hell."

"Too late." He put his free hand on my throat and squeezed. "I'm gonna count down. Five…" I sighed and closed my eyes. I tried to steady my breathing and stop shaking. "Four…" I could hear Daredevil protesting. "Three… Take the shot, Red. Take the shot!"

"No."

"You don't do it, her death's on you. Either way, you're a killer. Two…"

"What kind of choice is that?"

"The kind of choice I make every time I pull the trigger," he said. I opened my eyes and looked in his. "The kind I'm gonna make right now." He truly looked at me. "Bang." I simultaneously pushed the gun away from my face, to the right, while turning my head in the other direction. I figured I'm dead anyway. Might as well try it. Just as I was performing the move, he pulled the trigger. At the last second, I gasped and held my breath.

I then twisted my upper torso to the left, spring loading it. As the bullet struck the ground, taking the hearing in my right ear with it, I brought my right elbow back with as much force as I had. It crashed into the side of his head and he went limp. For a minute I didn't breathe, didn't move. Did that actually work? HA!

"Angel," Daredevil's voice echoed through the ringing. I gasped, taking a breath and then heaved the Neanderthal off of me. He flipped to the side. I reached over and grabbed the gun from him. "I'm okay," I coughed. I heard Daredevil sigh with relief as I stood. I pointed the gun at the chains holding him, just behind him. I pulled the trigger and the chains broke.

He started shaking off the chains as I quickly got down with him. I let out a shaky breath. He brought up his left hand and put it on the side of my face, as I pressed my forehead against his. "I'm sorry," he said, choking up. "I couldn't do it."

"No," I shook my head and cupped his face. "It's okay. I didn't want you to." His lip quivered as I felt mine wanting to do the same. I quickly pressed my lips against his. That was one of the scariest things I can imagine someone going through. I would've understood had he pulled the trigger. But, in a way, I'm glad he didn't.

"Should've known you two were lovers." I startled and looked for the owner of the voice. Frank stood at the edge of the roof, a rifle pointing down at the street. How did he get over there? And, now what is he doing? I suddenly had a light bulb moment and remembered Grotto. I looked around and found him lying on the ground about ten feet away.

Daredevil looked angry, staring at Frank. Alright. Round three. He stood, a gun tapped to one hand and about ten feet of chain stuck to the other. He walked up behind Frank, using the chain as a whip. Frank pulled the trigger as the chain wrapped around his neck. Daredevil pulled back on it, causing Frank to slam back on the ground.

I turned away from the ensuing fight and went to Grotto. I crouched down next to him and rolled him over. He had a gunshot wound in his chest. Must've been a stray from when Frank and I were fighting. I sighed and then stood. He's dead. Had I stepped in sooner…oh, who knows. Frank could've killed him at any time. But he was heck bent on making Daredevil a murderer.

Wait. So then why'd he want me dead? Why was Frank going to kill me if he knew I was one of the good guys? Or does he? Oh, no. I told him that I've killed people that probably didn't deserve it. I incriminated myself. Now he thinks I'm the bad guy. Daredevil hit the floor and I snapped out of it. Frank walked back over to the edge with his gun, leaving Daredevil reeling on the ground.

I found my bow and picked it up. I don't even remember loosing it. Frank stepped on something, turning on a spot light pointed at the ground. What is he doing? He then raised his gun. I readied an arrow as I walked a little wide, to get a better angle.

"One batch, two batch," I heard him whisper as he aimed. "Penny and dime." I released my arrow, shooting the gun out of his hands and over the edge. It's not like he doesn't have another. Daredevil was standing now. He swung the chain and wrapped it around Frank's neck. He pulled him in closer and then held him there, strangling him.

"You're done now, Red," he choked out. "They're coming for you. Only way you get out of this, is if you grow wings." Daredevil slammed Frank's head against the wall, knocking him out. I sighed with relief. He's finally quiet. Gosh! The man doesn't shut up. I glanced over the edge of the roof. All the motorcycles outside the Dogs of Hell, were baked until golden brown. Great. So that's who's after us. An angry motorcycle gang.

"We need to go," I said. "There's still a bullet in that gun." Daredevil pointed the gun taped to his hand off in the distance, pulling the trigger. He nodded and then hefted Frank over his shoulder. "Of course," I sighed. "Can't just this once we _not_ do the right thing?" He ignored me and hurried toward the door. You know, it's stuff like that that probably make Frank think I'm a bad guy. He needs to look up the definition. He'd find his face next to it in the dictionary. I sighed and quickly followed. We walked down two flights and then came out in a hall way on the top floor. I followed Daredevil, turning right.

He walked up to an elevator and pressed the button. This thing looked a million years old. Nothing happened. I stepped forward and just started pressing it repeatedly. I could hear the bikers getting closer. The doors finally opened and we stepped in. Daredevil dropped Frank and then the doors began to close. The bikers rushed down the hall toward us, as an old man stepped out of his apartment. Daredevil forced the doors back open and then stepped out. I followed, reloading.

One of the men pointed a gun at us. Daredevil smacked it out of his hands with the chain and then grabbed his collar. He forced him to walk toward the others, while putting the gun to the back of his head. "Drop the gun," he said. "Drop it!" I raised my bow pulling back the string, walking next to Daredevil. The men started backing up as we got closer. "You okay, Sir?" he asked the old man.

"Yeah," he said, frightened by what was happening.

"I suggest getting back inside and locking the door," I told him, my eyes not leaving the men. I heard the apartment door close and assumed the man had listened to what I said. There were four guys total, including the one Daredevil had at gunpoint. Which is kind of ironic. I heard a crash and then the lights went out. I stepped forward, shooting the guy closest to me. I ran and kicked off the wall. I came down on top of another guy, my bow hitting his face, first. I came to a rest on top of him in a crouching position.

The fourth guy came at me, raising his bat over his head. Just as he brought it down on me, Daredevil's hand reached over and stopped it, inches from my face. He pushed the guy away from me, punching him in the face. I heard something to my right and turned that way. One of the guys on the ground was going for a gun. I quickly loaded, aimed, and fired an arrow. It crashed into the guy's shoulder blade, pushing his arm forward. As it did, he pulled the trigger, shooting the guy next to him.

I looked at Daredevil. From what I could see, he was punching the guy into oblivion. "Come, on." I stood, walking toward him. "We don't have time for that." I grabbed the back of his collar and pulled him up off the guy as I walked past. He shook my hand off as I chuckled. At the end of the hall stood a door, with who knows how many of these nincompoops behind it. I pulled an arrow out of my quiver as we got within ten feet of the door. Daredevil whipped the chain in the air, knocking out another light.

I slid my arrow into place. "Would you stop _that_!" The door opened and a guy ran at us with a crowbar. Daredevil kicked him as I shot the next guy who stepped through the door. Something hard hit me in the back and I cringed. I whipped around, bringing up my bow to stop the next hit. Some guy was hitting me with a very large wrench. The sound of it hitting my bow echoed off the walls.

I kicked him in the knee, hearing a crack, as the next guy stepped up. This one had a piece of a pipe. What is the matter with these people? Have they not heard of proper weapons? I swung my bow like a club, smacking him in the side of the head. He slumped to the ground as the other guy tried to stand. Someone wrapped their arms around my neck from behind.

I kicked the guy on the ground in the chin, and then floored it backwards. We slammed into a wall, causing him to loosen his grip. I twisted, bringing my elbow into his side. I then fully faced him. I punched him with the fist holding my bow. He slid to the ground. My chest heaved as I looked around. Daredevil was just wrapping things up with his guy. I turned and walked toward the door.

A few idiots tried to stand, and I wacked them with my bow. Like a life size Wack-A-Mole. Except, this edition would be called Wack-An-Idiot. I sighed, inwardly laughing at myself. I got to the end of the hall and then leaned against the wall next to the door. Is it wrong to say I'm having fun?

Daredevil walked past me and through the door. He pushed it hard, and I heard it hit someone behind it. I hissed, in a mock sympathetic way. I pushed off the wall and went through the door. It leads to a staircase. I walked to the banister and looked down. Wow. A staircase full of angry bikers. Lovely.

Daredevil was already working on his third guy. And there's plenty more where that came from. I walked down a step and then launched myself over the banister. I landed two flights down, punching someone as my feet hit the steps. I had one guy beneath me, another to my right heading up, and one to my left. The one to my left swung. I brought up my left arm and blocked it, stepping forward and jamming my bow into his face twice. Three more guys appeared behind him.

I quickly dropped my bow, grabbed the banister and the wall, then lifted myself off the ground. I planted my feet in his chest, sending him back into the other guys. A guy behind me hit me in the side with something hard. I chocked on a scream, my heel slipping off the edge of the step. The guy hit me once more as I feel. I hit the ground, landing on my bow. He hit me again on my right shoulder as I reached for one of my knives. I slipped it out of hiding and then threw it at the guy as he prepared for another hit.

It stabbed him in the shoulder. He grabbed for it, dropping the crowbar in his hands. I pulled myself to my feet with the banister. Still holding on to it, I planted my right foot into a guy's neck. He gagged and fell backwards down the steps. I cringed. I think that idiot broke something. Speaking of which…the guy was on his knees, coming at me with the knife. I rolled my eyes. I grabbed his right wrist, pulling it off to the side. Then I punched him a few times. I slipped the knife out of his hand as he fell.

I glanced up at Daredevil. He was closer now, dealing with some guy. A door just past him opened and a guy came out. Weird. I didn't notice that before. Oh well. I grabbed my bow. The sight was broken, but I didn't really use it anyway. I pulled it off and tossed it as the next gut came up the stairs. You've got to be kidding me. The guy had a machete. I loaded an arrow and then shot it out of his hands. I ran and jumped on him, clinging to his upper torso. We flew down the remaining steps.

He was knocked out on impact. I rolled and threw my knife at the next guy, then shot him with an arrow. Someone pulled me to my feet and slammed me into the wall. The guy started punching me. I dug my foot into the banister for some leverage. His hand locked around my throat as I started punching back. He then picked me up by my throat and swung me over the banister. I landed on my back with a crack on the next flight of stairs, two guys to cushion my fall. I coughed and then moaned.

That was nuts. I groaned and rolled over onto my stomach. I broke a couple ribs, that's for sure. Probably finished off what that one guy started .I pushed up to my hands and knees, when another hand grabbed me. I jabbed my elbow back, missing, as I turned to see my attacker. "Easy," Daredevil said. I sighed with relief. He handed me my bow. "Are you okay?" He breathed heavily, just as exhausted as I was. Blood ran from a few places on his face.

"For now," I nodded. "Go." He walked the few remaining steps. I glanced up the stairs, at the mass of moaning bodies. Ugh. Like the staircase from Hell. I turned and followed. We walked through the door, leaving the stairwell. I will never look at stairs the same way again. Daredevil slipped something metal into the door latch. Locking it. I held my bow in one hand and wrapped the other around my waist. I hissed.

I kept walking so the Daredevil couldn't stop me. All I want to do is get out of here. And, I'm sure, more are coming. We walked about twenty feet and then to other set of stair. This one was small, only two flights. We walked down the first and then stopped on the landing. Three guys stood in the middle of the room. I sighed. "Really?"

Daredevil walked down the stairs, preparing to use the chain in his hand. He jumped on the first guy, jamming his gun into the top of his head. I bit down on my lip as I reached behind me for an arrow. I walked down the steps and aimed. Daredevil rolled across the ground, knocking over the second guy. I aimed left and shot the third. I walked closer as a fourth guy stepped out in front of me.

It took a couple steps back. This guy was huge. He was at least twice the size of Daredevil. I practically growled as he swung his fist at me. I quickly put the bow in my right hand, grabbing onto it's lower limb. I thrust I forward and up between his legs. It barely fazed him, and didn't stop the fist from slamming me into the wall. He punched again and I ducked, dropping my bow. I came up and started punching him. I must've hit him five times. He barely moved. What's this man made of, steel?

He grabbed me with both hands and pulled me into him, head butting me. So a second I felt light headed. I tried to shake it off as I became air born. I slammed into someone and we tumbled to the floor. I groaned as I saw the guy I hit was Daredevil. He didn't look too good. I didn't feel too good. I rolled off of him and onto my back, as the guy was on top of me. He grabbed me again and left me a foot off the ground before pushing me back into it. I hit with a loud thud, taking all the air out of my lungs.

Daredevil stood and tried to tackle the guy. I closed my eyes and coughed. I rolled onto my stomach, struggling to get to my knees. My whole body hurt. It ached in some many places… A drop of blood it the ground. I looked down and saw the blood from my shoulder bleeding through my suit. I took a few deep breaths and then spit out a wad of blood. I pushed it out of my mind and got to my feet.

I wobbled a sec and then started walking. Daredevil was pinned. Someone was holding him while the other hit him. I pulled out two knives, holding one in each hand. I walked up behind the guy and drove my knives his back. He screamed and recoiled. He began to fall as I yanked out my knives. Daredevil had gotten the other guy off of him.

I dropped the knives. I spun and kicked the guy, knocking him out. I continued to spin, not putting in the effort to catch myself. I let gravity take its course and run me into the ground. I just laid there a second and tried to catch my breath. I coughed a few more times, and then rolled over. Daredevil was leaning into the wall, hands on his knees. He straightened, gasping for more air than I was. He walked up to me and reached down the hand with the chain.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I cut the engine to my car as soon as I'd pulled up along the sidewalk. Dani told me to go home. But there's no way I'm staying out of this. I practically dove from my car and ran up the sidewalk to the entrance to the building I knew Dani and Matt were at. Dani's not the only one who knows how to track a cell phone.

Motorcycles and hunks of metal were burning in the street. What happened here? I chose to ignore my curiosity and hurry inside. As soon as I walked in, I saw Dani and Matt. Both were in costume, heaving for a breath, with blood coming from various places.

"Are you guys okay?" I asked, quickly, skidding to a stop just inside the open door. They shared a look, and then both looked at me. Dani spoke up first. " _What_ …are you doing here?" she asked, panting. I looked around at the bodies of passed out bikers strewn about the floor. "Uh…helping?" I said, a bit unsure. I looked back up at Dani.

She sighed. "Well, you're a little late for that."

"I can see that. Where's The Punisher?" I asked, looking around again. I didn't see him passed out along with the bikers. So where was he? Did he get away? Part of me hoped for that, and the rest of me begged them to tell me he didn't. Matt shook his head once. "He, uh…he got away," he said, exhaling. "He _was_ in the elevator. But he's gone." I nodded, thinking. Maybe this is a good thing?

What am I saying? I inwardly slapped myself. This was _not_ a good thing—this was very _far from_ a good thing. The guy is crazy and he either belongs in prison or a mental institution. Maybe even both. "It's back to square one," Dani groaned.

Matt's voice caught my attention. "Alison, you should know…Grotto's dead." I was stuck a moment, unable to really feel the weight of what he was saying. Then it hit me. My lungs felt constricted and my throat suddenly felt too dry. I swallowed. "Did…did, um, the Punisher-?"

"He shot Grotto," Dani answered, looking at me pointedly. My shoulders dropped. The disappointment was almost as bone-crushing as the guilt. Grotto died because he agreed to do that stupid set up with the DA, something I pushed him to do. I all but promised that he would survive. Well, he survived the meet. Just not what came after.

I nodded a little, trying to keep my chin up, like it didn't bother me. "Let's call it a night, yeah? See what we can do as civilians in the morning," Matt suggested.

"Good idea," Dani rubbed her shoulder, wincing. "I'm ripped in places I didn't know I had." Then, to me, she glared, "But _we_ are going to talk."

"Got it, boss," I gave a mock salute, which only made her glare harder.

"Cops will be all over this place. We should go," Matt said, turning to us. He seemed to have been tuning out the lot of what we were saying. It made me wonder briefly it he should even be out in the field yet. Probably not. But he's Matt Murdock. He'll do whatever it takes to save lives even if it kills him. On one hand, it's really misguided. But, on the other, it's something to look up to.

Dani nodded. "Agreed," she pointed at me. "Go straight home, got it? And take off the jacket, will you? You're not a vigilante, Fletcher."

"No…but I wanna help my friends. There's a difference." I smiled dryly, closed-mouthed, and Dani sighed, shaking her head. She mumbled something I couldn't quite make out as she followed Matt up the stairs. I guess they were going to take the stairs and get home by way of rooftop. Lovely. I sighed and started back out of the building for my car.

I felt a bit deflated from the events of late finally ending. And saddened, and guilty, and stupid, and a thousand other things. A small portion of me felt relieved that it was over. No more roller coaster of emotions. I was just stuck with one. I lazily pulled open the driver's side door to my car and slid in behind the wheel, shutting the door behind me. I sat there a minute, thinking. If I had been against the meet, would Grotto still be here?

Probably not. Frank would've gotten to him sooner or later—even in witness protection. So why do I feel bad about it? Because he trusted you, and you wanted him to get out of Hell's Kitchen, get his second chance. But he didn't, did he? I inhaled and stuck my key in the ignition. "Hey-" My whole body launched forward an inch as I whirled in my seat, letting out a squeak of a shriek. Speak of the devil.

Frank sat in my back seat, a little more draped over the cushion than a normal sitting position, on the passenger side. I stared at him with wide eyes, my chest heaving to keep up with my rabbit heart beat. "What…are you doing… _in my car_?" I asked, my voice rising with every syllable.

"I need your help." He adjusted his position, and only then did I notice the red. It was slowly streaming down his right arm. Great. I quickly looked around. I didn't see anyone I knew—or anyone in general, for that matter. This is ridiculous. I glared at him a moment and he remained silent, staring back. I groaned, turning to face the wheel. I stuck the key back into the ignition and started the car. "You're crazy, you know that, right?"


	11. Falling for the Bad Guy

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

With Frank's help, I was able to navigate my way to his ratty apartment. It was quite the trashy building. But it made perfect sense. Before we left the car, I made sure to grab my med bag. I didn't know what supplies he had on hand and I felt better with my own equipment anyway. He led the way across the street and up the stairs inside the building, then to the right apartment door. I may be stupid for going along with this.

But I was smart enough to keep a gun on me. Tucked in my belt at my lower back, under my jacket, was a 9mm handgun that I got from Turk. He was a little concerned about how easily I lost the last one, but he sold me the gun in the end. This one I bought at full price, no exceptions. I didn't mind though seeing as it wasn't actually that expensive to begin with. Frank pushed open the door and shuffled into the apartment.

The silver pitbull from when I talked to him in his car was chained up not far from the door. It jumped and barked, wagging its tail in excitement upon seeing Frank. I hesitantly took a step inside and shut the door behind me slowly. I turned back toward the rest of the apartment and paused. "Wow…" was all I could say. The whole room was filled with what looked to be hundreds of different weapons and ammunitions.

The light in the room wasn't the best—just a couple desk lamps here and there—but I didn't need anything bright to see all of it. "Are you killing street trash or arming a third-world country?" I asked, rhetorically. He sighed, petting the dog a second before shrugging off his heavy jacket. Right, I almost forgot. He doesn't do much small talk. Like ever. "Let me look at your arm."

I dropped the med bag by the first table I came to and walked over to him. He turned around just as I arrived and, without saying anything, I grabbed his arm and held it up for me to see. Though it was sudden, he held still. There was a small but deep laceration near the underside of his elbow, on his right forearm. It looked like he'd stitched it before but whatever happened on that rooftop ripped it right back open.

Then my eyes shifted farther up. A hole that I knew the look of all too well was in his shoulder. "You were shot?" I asked, my eyes rounding a bit as I looked up at him.

"Turns out Angels bite. She, uh…she said she talked to you before coming to the roof. Said that you _begged_ her not to kill me."

I paused, suddenly feeling heat in my cheeks. "She told you that?"

"Yeah," he nodded a little. His head tilted just slightly. "Did you do it?"

I nodded with a light sigh, "Sit." I gestured to a crate of some kind of ammo a couple feet to his left. He waited a second but then stepped over and sat on the crate as told. "Why would you do that?" he asked, continuing the conversation as if nothing happened in between. "Why go to all that trouble for a psychopath with an itchy trigger finger, huh?"

"I don't think you're a psychopath. Maybe a _little_ crazy, but not a psychopath," I corrected, with a shake of my head. I sucked in a breath. "I don't believe in just casting people aside. Knowing what exactly happened to spur this on, I can attest to the fact that you probably just need help. You don't deserve to die."

"Yeah, well, your vigilantes think otherwise," he looked over my shoulder, glancing around a bit.

"I assume you're talking about Angel?" I gave him a look and sighed. "She's had a hard year, okay? But she's not the bad guy."

He looked back at me, sarcastically dumbfounded. " _Really_? I mean, you could've fooled me. What's funny about all this is that you're best friends with a woman in a mask and some blue pajamas, going around killing or maiming whoever, and yet you look at _me_ like I'm some kind of animal for doing the same thing."

"She doesn't kill people anymore. That…that was completely different. She killed because she had no other choice—she was given orders and she followed through like a good soldier," that caught his attention, causing him to look at me again at the word _soldier_. Seems like he identifies with that notion. "She talks tough, she does. But she's just like everyone else. She's saved my life more times than I can count."

"Guess I'll just have to take your word for it." I sighed heavily, meeting his gaze with a tired expression. He was looking elsewhere again so I went back to my med bag and unzipped it, then began rummaging. "You some kind of doctor?" he asked, sounding slightly curious. "Thought you were a waitress."

"And I thought you were harmless," I stood and turned around, only meeting a slightly scowling expression from him, from where he sat on the crate. "Disappointment abounds." I walked over to him with the sewing kit, gauze, and medical wrap. There was a dry rag lying on a table so I grabbed that, too. I stood just in front of him and gestured toward his torso. "Do you mind? I can't patch you up through cotton."

He sighed a bit but tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it beside the crate. I inhaled, taking a side step and another an inch forward, grabbing the sewing kit. "This might hurt a little," I warned, as I slid the thread through the needle. Once it was in, I started sewing up the hole. It didn't seem like the arrow had gone all the way through so I wouldn't need to sew up the backside of his shoulder, too.

I worked the needle through and glanced at Frank. Sitting on the crate, we were about eye level, maybe I was even an inch or two taller. It didn't look like it bothered him. Inwardly, I expected some kind of reaction. Usually this kind of thing hurts. _A lot_. But he just sat there, looking at something over my shoulder. I watched a moment, but nothing happened. "Doesn't that hurt?" I asked, semi quiet, raising an eyebrow.

He shook his head, "No."

"Okay, then," I inhaled, rounding my eyes a moment in an expression. "At least I don't have to worry about going slow with the stitches."

"Whatever you're dying to ask—just ask it," he suddenly said. I glanced up at him from the wound, only to find him already eyeing me with a serious expression. I exhaled through my nose and clipped off the stitch. For a minute, I debated not responding. But I did have a lot of questions. "Were you ever going to mention what exactly it is you do?" I asked, starting on the second stitch.

"Eventually," he nodded once.

I bobbed my head in a slow nod, focusing on the suture. "' _Eventually'_ …so, is this all what you meant by 'things people wouldn't understand?'"

"It's not what you think, alright? You think I go around this city gunning down whoever I see, whenever I feel like it, right?" It wasn't really a question. I sighed, but he continued. "These people deserve it—every last one of 'em. Not a single one of 'em is innocent."

I instantly looked up, narrowing my eyes. "And who decides that, hm? You?"

"They killed my family," he replied, looking right into my eyes. The intense look to his face let me know he was far away from kidding. He was one hundred percent serious. I wanted to say something. My skin itched to be moved—but I was frozen a second by the look on his face. I was able to pull myself from it after a moment and clip off the stitch, starting another. "How do you know that?" I asked, hesitantly.

I tried to keep my eyes trained to the needle as best as I could while I waited for him to reply. My fingers worked quickly to sew in another suture. "They were all there. The Irish, the Dogs of Hell, the cartel—all of 'em. Some drug deal gone wrong," he scoffed at his own words, looking off at something else again. "And it's not just _my_ family- no. They've hurt countless others all over the city—and they'll continue to do it until someone has the guts to put an end to it."

After I clipped off another stitch, I stood upright, finally looking at him. He looked back at me and I sighed, dropping my shoulders. "So this is revenge? Justice? What is it?" I asked, feeling a bit more sympathetic than before, but still just sounding tired.

"It's punishment," Frank answered, seriously. His tone was calmer than before and a little quieter. My features relaxed in an almost mopey way. There was no denying how sorry I felt about this whole situation. I mean, I felt bad for the guy. I've lost people, too, and I know exactly how that feels. But this? Not Revenge. Not Justice. _Punishment_. Isn't that what they're calling him? The _Punisher_? I cast my eyes downward and continued stitching.

After clipping off the final stitch, I placed a gauze pad on the wound and taped it down. A silence settled in between us while I worked. I was used to that. Matt wasn't incredibly chatty when I would patch him up, either. At least this way I can just focus on one task at a time. Next was the arm wound. Seemingly sensing this, he lifted up his arm without protest and I nabbed it. I gently dabbed the oozing wound with the rag.

I moved just my eyes up a second, just to see, but there was still no reaction. Surely he felt that. Surely he felt _something_. Taking a breath, I put more thread on the needle and started stitching. This wound took another stitch than the last one but it didn't take as long. I clipped off the last suture and grabbed the gauze. I centered a gauze strip over the wound, and then started the medical wrap over it and around a couple times.

I inhaled. "Any other injuries I should know about?" I asked, gently.

He shook his head, "No."

I finished wrapping his arm and gathered the supplies. Something caught my eye when I looked up at him, causing me to pause. I sidestepped to the right to see the left side of his head. Three small but thick looking cuts marred his skin a ways above his ear. "What are you doing?" he asked, rhetorically, as I reached for the med bag.

"These need butterfly bandages," I replied, simply. I found my pack of bandages and moved back over to him, standing on his left side this time. I opened up a bandage and held the skin together on either side of the first cut. "Did you go to medical school?" he asked, surprising me a bit.

"Uh…" I opened another package. "Not exactly. My mom taught me all this."

"She must be a smart woman."

"Yeah, she was. But then she was arrested for crimes against the country and thrown in a maximum security prison. And suddenly she was a lot less like a role model for me. It was more of an embarrassment than anything else." I added a final bandage to the first cut and started on the second.

He turned his head just slightly, enough to see me without disrupting my work. He gave me a questioning look. "What did she do?"

"Well, she had a habit of helping wounded Hydra agents. It used to be a Nazi organization and just kind of…evolved to fit modern society," I explained, calmly, moving onto the final cut.

"Huh," he was quiet a second. Then he said, facing forward, "Looks like _you_ came out alright."

"Was that a compliment?" A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. I placed the last bandage on the third cut and stepped back. I took in a breath. "There, all done." Frank felt the wrapping on his arm, stretched his arm out a bit to test its ability to move. "Thank you," he nodded once, glancing at me.

I shook my head. "Don't bother. Something tells me you're going to get a lot bloodier before you're done with Hell's Kitchen."

He sighed through his nose and stood, gaining almost a foot on me in height. "I wanna show you something," he said, grabbing his shirt off the floor. "Let's take a drive." First he wanted me to take him to his house. And now I'm driving to who knows where. At least this time I was getting the directions from beside me instead of from behind.

He was pretty quiet most of the way, obviously thinking. I'd give anything to know _what_ he was thinking about. At least I got to drive—given that it was my car we were driving in. "Turn right, here," he directed, breaking his silence for only long enough to say that. I turned right, and my insides started to sour. I knew exactly where we were going. I'd gone this way before many times. We were going to the park.

When we arrived, it was just barely daybreak, the sun starting to come up over the horizon. No one would be around here at this hour. I pulled up along the curb and cut the engine. "Come on." He slid out and shut his door before I could respond. I exhaled a grumbling sigh and cursed under my breath before getting out. The morning chill was terrible, so I zipped up my Angel jacket and followed Frank into the park. "Why are we here?" I asked him.

"You need to see it," he replied. Just then, we came upon the carousel. I'd seen it before. Chase liked coming here whenever I happened to get a day off and could take him. Frank stopped walking at least two yards in front of it and I took the cue, stopping beside him by a few inches. I looked up at him. His eyes were fixated on the carousel for a long moment. For a second, I thought I would have to literally slap him out of it.

But then he seemed to come to on his own, his gaze remaining forward. "I don't know if you remember…we came to the Café, that day," he said, finally speaking. _Oh, I remember. I remember it like it was yesterday._ "Right after we stopped there, we came here. This was the last place I saw them alive. Have you ever lost someone like that? One second they're…they're here and they're smiling and they're happy, and the next they're just _gone_."

I wrapped my arms around myself to ward off the cold. My chest felt tight, heavy—like something was weighing it down. There was a mild lump in my throat. "I lost someone I cared about last year—two people, actually. The man I loved and a man that was like a father to me. I lost them, just…not like this," I inhaled deeply, trying to make my lungs work again. "Frank I…I'm _so_ sorry."

He turned toward me suddenly. "I'm doing this for them—for my family. The men that did this deserve Hell; I'm just helping them get there faster. Your pal, Daredevil? He's not doing anything. Sure, he beats them up pretty good and they get put away, but then they're right back out on the street. It doesn't change anything—what I do _works_."

"I want to believe in what you're doing, okay? I _really_ do," I turned to him a little, my expression sympathetic. "But this? Would your _family_ want you to do this, Frank?"

"Don't do that. Don't pretend like you know me," he shook his head.

I exhaled, my breath fogging in front of my face. "Don't I? You lost _everything_ , all in the blink of an eye. And you blame yourself, don't you? The only difference between us is that the person _I_ lost is actually gone because of me," I said, calmly. "We're both living with it—but _you_ think taking matters into your own hands is going to fix it all. This won't bring them back-"

He scoffed a little. "You don't think I know that?"

"Look, I get it. You want vengeance. After what happened to you I would, too, so I get why you're doing this. But that doesn't mean I trust you," I replied, with a shake of my head. He nodded once in a flippant way, just like when we'd talked in his junky car outside the Café, and then turned back toward the carousel, away from me. I sighed. This was going nowhere. I wanted to say I was on his side.

My feet were so close to the edge, but I just needed something to sway me enough to make me take the fall. This was not it. I took a step, closing most of the space between us, and put a hand on his arm. He instantly looked at me, his eyes quickly finding mine. Once again I found myself stuck. Unable to say what was on the tip of my tongue. I tried my best to shake it and speak up, taking in a deep breath.

"I believe you, okay? You're _not_ crazy—there's a point to all of this," I reasoned, gentle in tone—mostly with trying to reason with myself. "What I don't understand…is why me? There are other reporters that write about vigilantes in the city, reporters that are with much bigger papers than the Bulletin."

"Because I knew you—before all of this. Your Café was the last place I saw them before the park, that day. I could trust you," he answered, his voice quieting back down again. It seemed to come so effortlessly for him, honesty. Like it would physically pain him to lie. And what he said made sense. I was the last person he spoke to before they died and, when you've been emotionally damaged like that, you tend to cling to memories that aren't so tainted.

I guess my Café fit in with the good memories. Like a lighthouse, with that one bright light keeping you heading for dry land. I know what that's like. I felt that not only when James died but also right after that when Ben died. I nodded a little, understanding. I inhaled, exhaled. "Okay…I'll write your story. I'll tell the world what happened here…what happened to your family," I agreed.

A tone of surprise etched his features. But he nodded once, his eyes not leaving my face. "Thank you, ma'am."

His tone was incredibly sincere. I paused, smiling a little. I don't even know why. It just felt like I needed to. "You know, my name is _Alison_ ," I cocked an eyebrow in a lighthearted expression and held out my left hand, the one not gripping the arm of his jacket. "Alison Fletcher." He didn't move for a moment. Then a small chuckle escaped him and I saw the faintest hints of anything remotely resembling a smile. He looked around a second before settling his eyes on me.

His hand encircled mine, holding on. "Frank Castle."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Castle. Now- do you spell your name like the medieval architecture, or is there some fancy way of writing it?" At _medieval architecture_ he was barking a laugh and shaking his head, looking elsewhere again. My comment was mostly sarcastic. But, if I was going to write his name in a story, I would need to spell it right. You can never be too careful. Right?

Or maybe _I'm_ the crazy one in this whole situation. Either way, I liked hearing him laugh. It was nice seeing him do something other than brood or act downright grumpy. "Something tells me medieval architecture is just fine," he replied, looking back at me, looking like he was fighting a smile. "The sun's up. Should probably get you home, huh?"

I nodded. "Probably. Chase isn't doing so well, apparently." His eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch, head tilting just slightly. Right. He knows I have a son, just not what that son's name is. I forgot. "Err, my son. You met him the other night when you shot my babysitter."

It visibly clicked as he seemed to get it. "Yeah, I remember. Sorry about your house."

"It'll recover. Come on—I'm driving." The drive back to Frank's apartment was quiet, just like the drive in. But it was a comfortable silence. And the car was much warmer than standing outside. The sun was fully up now, just past breaking the skyline. The morning commuters were starting to clog up the roads.

Thankfully I've lived here long enough to know there are ways around that. It took an extra couple street lights, but we pulled up along the sidewalk across the road from his building, parking behind a large white van. I cut the engine and sat back in my seat. "How do I contact you?" I asked, the thought just crossing my mind.

"I'll contact you. If it's important—you know where I live," he nodded once, straight forward.

My fingers tapped the steering wheel. "Right…" I was trying to think of something to say. My mind was desperately trying to keep him in the car, anything to make him stay longer. Something caught my eye and I glanced up an inch. A group of men were leaving the building across the street. One of them held the chain to the silver pitbull from Frank's place. "Get down!"

Frank wrapped an arm around my shoulders and quickly pushed me down below the line of the dash board. He was down there, too, for a moment. But he slowly inched up until he could just barely see over the dash. I heard a car engine start. A second later, he sighed through his nose. "They're gone," he sat back, just enough for me to sit upright.

I looked at him with wide eyes. "Who was that?"

"The Irish," he answered, obviously thinking. He was staring at the entrance to the building, his right index finger tapping rapidly on his thigh. I inhaled. "Is it safe for you to even go in there now? They know where you live," I pointed. "Any moment, they could take you out."

His eyes shifted to me, his expression still thoughtful. "I'll be fine, Alison. The rest of them weren't that hard to take care of."

"But…it just seems like a risk, you know? Like, an unnecessary one," I continued, nervously rambling now. My heart was beating faster and I took deeper breaths to compensate. It left lightheadedness to my whole body. I think this could almost be categorized as _hyperventilating_. My chest felt tight. Frank's head tilted slightly as he listened to what I was saying. "It was a rat hole to begin with but it was at least safer than it is now. You can't stay there."

"Hey," warmth graced my right hand and my eyes flickered down a second. His hand was covering mine, holding onto it with a light firmness. I quickly looked back up. His eyes were soft. "It's okay. Nothing's gonna happen, you hear me?" I nodded—though unbelieving—and overturned my hand to grip his. Neither of us had sat up completely. It was just a halfway position that only granted for maybe a foot of space between us.

That didn't help with my already jittery, nervous feeling. He leaned forward the sparse inches in between the two seats and rested his forehead against mine, sliding his free hand onto my left jaw line/lower cheek area. I let my eyes fall closed. They were so tired. I hadn't slept all night. And the night before that wasn't good for sleep, either. Everything in me felt more relaxed right then than it had in the last few _weeks_ put together.

If I wasn't warm before I sure was now. I opened my eyes a second before his lips brushed mine. Just a light brush—slow, careful, testing the waters. Almost as if asking permission to do more than that. But it was enough to cause my stomach to practically flop. As his lips departed, I leaned forward the fraction of an inch to press my lips to his before they got too far. It wasn't like those fast, overly planned, intense kisses from TV.

Those always seemed _too_ right. Well, because they are. They're fake. This was slow but deliberate. It was intense but in a different way. In a good way. He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and I fell right into that trap, kissing him back just as deeply. A little voice inside me was screaming. This was not a part of the plan. This was not a good idea for anyone. _Didn't you just say you weren't interested in falling for the bad guy?_

But, was he really the bad guy? I wasn't so sure anymore. Not since my head was left spinning in a car outside a ratty looking apartment building. And I was definitely falling. He pulled away but leaned his forehead back into mine. I couldn't make myself open my eyes. I just wanted to hold onto it. I wanted to hold onto _him_. "I have to go," his voice was quiet, soft.

"Be careful, okay?" I could barely get the words to sound right. My lungs weren't working. I forced my eyelids open and leaned back just slightly, enough to see his face.

He nodded a little. "I will." With that, he opened his door and slid out, shutting it behind him. I watched him walk across the street and into the apartment building, biting my lip. Once he was out of sight, I slumped in my seat. I closed my eyes and let out the breath I'd been holding. " _What have I done?_ "

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I woke up and rolled over with a groan. Every muscle, bone, tendon, organ…it all hurt. A lot. Almost too much. I rolled over onto my back and hissed. My shoulder twisted the wrong way when I did that. I pushed my head into the pillow and sighed. Make it stop. The blankets rustled next to me and I looked over at Matt.

It was practically morning when we got here. And I didn't want to walk the extra miles. As soon as my head it the pillow I was out. If it weren't for how uncomfortable it is to sleep, I'd still be sleeping. Matt rolled on to his side, facing me. He didn't look too comfortable, either. Plus, we were kind of squished.

When we got back, Mary was here. She was on her way to work and needed someone to watch Lizzie. And, being half beaten to death, I said yes. But, it's not like there's a crib at Matt's, and I wasn't about to leave her in the car seat. So, here she is. Lying in the middle of the bed, between us. I looked down at her. She lay on her back with her arms outstretched above her head. Gosh, she's so cute.

Matt sighed, almost in annoyance, opening his eyes. "Yeah," I said. He smiled and looked my way. I slid my phone off the nightstand and looked at the time. "Ugh. It's only been four hours."

"What time is it?"

"Eleven. I have a meeting with a client at three." The screen turned black on my phone, forcing me to see myself. "And I look worse than a junk yard. No amount of showers or make up is going to fix this." I put the phone back as Matt laughed. "What? It's already hard enough coming up with an excuse for the scar."

"Well, I think you look fine," Matt said, propping himself up on his elbow.

I shrugged. "That's actually more comforting than one would think." I looked down at Lizzie, still sleeping. I rolled over and adjusted my pillow. "So. What are your thoughts on The Punisher?" He slightly sighed and looked around the room. Probably not the thing he'd like to be talking about right now. But, at some point we need a plan. Stopping him won't be easy.

"That we need to stop him. Right now, that's all." Since he shrugged off the question, I took the cue and dropped it. "How'd you know where we were?"

My eyes met his. "Your cell phone last pinged near the Dogs of Hell," I said and he nodded. "Part of me thinks I should've stepped in sooner. The other, knows it wouldn't have mattered. But, I do know that I'm not _ever_ listening to you when you tell me to leave."

He smiled. They room went quiet. Lizzie fidgeted a minute and then settled back down. I put my hand on her stomach and rubbed small circles. "The other day," Matt said, causing me to look at him, "you asked if I remembered when we'd first met. Why?"

"My mom's birthday is this week. Every year…I can't help looking back."

"That's why you were upset."

"One of the reasons," I nodded. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I rolled over and grabbed it. It was a text from Mary. I opened it and read it. "Mary says she can take Lizzie, now. I think I'll go do that. This bed is making me stiff," I chuckled. "You should probably find Foggy, tell him you're okay. He was pretty crazy when he told me what happened. I'll probably get the third degree when I see him next. I'd almost prefer running into The Punisher again than seeing Foggy."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

It took me a while to pull myself together, but I made it back to the Café. I pushed through the front door and inwardly groaned. Dani was sitting on a stool at the counter, her face in her hands, hunched over. This wasn't good. I should just back out and go somewhere else. But Chase needed me. So I inhaled and kept walking in. Dani looked up. Her eyes instantly narrowed to match her dry expression.

"Well, if it isn't the murderer worshipper," she admonished.

I rolled my eyes. "Don't start with me, Dylan."

"Oh, this already started," she slid off her stool as I stopped walking, a few feet from her. "It started when you let a rampaging lunatic into your Café and didn't decide to tell anyone until last night! That monster put a gun to my head, and told Matt he would either have to kill The Punisher or _me_. What were you thinking, Alison-"

I inhaled, my blood reaching the boiling point. "Don't act like you understand. You go out there every night and risk your life for perfect strangers—and from what? The very same criminals that Frank is taking off the streets."

" _You're defending him_?" her mouth fell open, her eyes filled with rage.

"I'm defending the principle!" I corrected, raising my voice in frustration. "You can't call the kettle black when your pot is full of coal."

She made a sound of annoyance. "This is not the same, Alison, and you know that. Have you even thought about your son _or_ what happened just upstairs while he was _in the room_? What happens when he decides he doesn't need you anymore?" I tried to keep my shoulders up, but they couldn't help but drop.

Yeah, I've thought about it. My son would be in danger twenty-four seven if Frank's enemies knew I was helping him. Dani glared at me, waiting for a response. Though Frank was violent with the people he killed…like he said, they were all criminals that probably did deserve it. I mean, I don't agree with the way he went about it. But it's not as crazy as it seemed anymore. I took a deep breath.

"He would never hurt _me_." I said it with confidence, like I really believed it. Most of me did. She stared at me with the same glaring, disapproving expression, with her arms crossed while shaking her head. I knew I'd lost her then. That she wouldn't see it that way right now. Typical. "You're just as crazy as he is if you think that's true, Alison," she warned.

"I don't need your _approval_ , Dani. I've made my bed and I'm just fine laying in it without your vigilante blessing," I spat back. "I know what I'm doing."

Just then, Mary came trotting down the stairs. She stopped as soon as she saw Dani's and my expression. Her eyes darted between us a moment and my mind instantly went to Chase. "Hey, how is Chase?" I asked, walking over to her. She and Dani shared a look before Mary turned to me. She motioned for me to follow her and started back up the stairs. "Not so good," she answered, a step ahead of me.

"What happened?" I asked, completely stumped.

"I'm not sure," she shook her head. "One second he was fine and, the next, he was hurling all over the place."

We reached the top of the stairs and she stopped, motioning toward the closed bathroom door. "He's in there," she said, with a sympathetic expression. "Has been all night." I nodded and gave her a quick hug of thanks, then hurried to the bathroom. I eased open the door. Chase was face first in the toilet, plastered to the seat, limp. I closed the door behind me and took a step toward him. "Chase?"

He quickly shot upright in a sitting position and looked up at me. I covered my mouth with my hand to keep from chuckling insensitively. All around the shape of his face was a practically burned in toilet seat mark. The patch of his face inside the circle was pale, but the patch around the outside was almost red. I dropped my hand and moved over to him. "Oh, honey," I got down on my knees beside him. "I am so sorry I wasn't here."

"It's okay," he shook his head, a bit groggily.

I couldn't help but feel extremely guilty. While I was off aiding a criminal, my son was going through his own hell at home. I ran my fingers through his hair and he dozed off for a split second. "You wanna lay down, close your eyes?" I asked, gently. He nodded and I moved to sit with my back against the under sink cupboards, then he crawled into my lap and snuggled his face against my shoulder. I sighed through my nose.

This week has been an absolute nightmare. Something told me it wasn't going to get better, either. I wrapped my arms around Chase's small form and kissed the top of his head. This is where I'm supposed to be. _Helping a vigilante or not, Chase comes first_. I made a promise to myself right then. Now I just have to keep it.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th with special guest star: DubonetTheWriter as Tayla Hart)

I downed what little coffee was left in my cup and then set the glass down as Mary came trotting down the stairs. I slid the glass away from me, across the counter. "Got anything stronger back there?" I asked. Mary chuckled as she took her place behind the counter. "Because alcohol's always the answer," she scoffed in amusement.

"Right now, it is. How long have you known?"

She raised an eyebrow. She held it for a second before going back to normal, grabbing a rag to wipe down the counter. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I sighed, straightening. "You're a terrible liar." She smiled, refusing to look at me. "I have to go. See you later, Mare."

"Later, Dani."

I stood, hopping off the bar stool. I walked through the crowded café and straight to the door. I can't believe Alison, after everything we've been through, would do something so reckless. Does she not remember what happened with Wesley? Of course, right now, I think I'd rather have her dating him than this new nut job. What is it with her and the bad boys? Like…the _really_ bad boys.

I put my hand on the door knob as the door was suddenly pushed toward me, slamming into my face with an all too familiar sound. I stumbled back slightly, hearing a slight shriek. "I am so sorry." I heard a woman's voice as I straightened. A spot in the middle of my forehead was starting to burn, protesting against the doors touch. "Are you okay?"

I rubbed it slightly and looked up at her. She was about my height, skinny as a bean pole. Her dark hair was pulled in a ponytail. I sighed and dropped my hand. "It's no problem," I finally said. "Really. It's fine."

"Fine? I just hit you with a door!"

"Yeah, something I've done, once upon a time." She looked at me unbelieving. Almost like something had to be wrong with me. Like she couldn't possibly have hit me with a door and then have me walk away without a scratch. I brushed my hair behind my ear, slightly glancing around the room.

"I don't care. I should've been watching where I was going," she spoke kind of frantically, trying to cover her butt before I changed my mind. And while I'm not in the mood for this, I'm not going to rip her a new one. Like I said, I've done this very thing before.

"Look, it happens, okay? Sometimes we get distracted…it's okay."

She let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, I've been…well, distracted, I guess." Her hand shot out in front of me. "Tayla Hart."

"Dani Dylan," I said, taking her hand. We shook and then I put my hands on my hips, eyeing her. Always the detective. "What brings you here?"

"Well, I can definitely say it wasn't to hit you," she chuckled and I smiled. "I came to see about a job."

"Good luck. The owner has a stick up her butt," I glanced toward the stairs as I said it, checking to see if Alison had come back down yet. Thankfully she hasn't. I looked back at her, her eyes refusing to leave me. It was kinda starting to creep me out. Her face slightly dropped at my comment. "Never mind," I shook my head. "Her son's sick right now, so I'd talk to Mary, if I were you."

"Okay," she nodded. "Um…thanks." She glanced toward the counter and then back to me. "At least let me buy you a drink or something, to repay you for the…door," she jutted a thumb toward it.

"You really don't have to-"

"No, please! I insist."

I eyed her again. I glanced around the café and then sighed. "Fine." I looked at her. "But, I feel I must warn you, today's not my day…so I'm not responsible for what comes out of my mouth."

She smiled. "Deal." I nodded toward the counter and she followed. We walked up to it and sat on a couple stools. Mary appeared a couple minutes later. She looked to me and then Tayla, then back to me, an eyebrow raised. "What about your three o'clock?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Well, you know…gravity." She smiled, shaking her head. She took our orders and then vanished. I turned to Tayla. "So. Why'd you want to work here?"

"It seems like a nice little store," she shrugged. "Plus, I could really use the money, right now." I nodded. I know what that's like. "What about you? How do you know the owner?"

"That's too much drama to go into, right now," I chuckled. "But, I was called in to help when she went to Nelson and Murdock."

"Right," she said like she just had a moment of realization. "I thought I recognized your name. You helped take down Fisk."

"That's me. The great pencil pusher," I said and she laughed. "Really, it was nothing. The heroes did all the work." Mary brought us our drinks and then hurried off to serve someone else. I took a drink of my iced coffee, seeing Tayla staring at me out of the corner of my eye. I sat it down and then looked at her. She was staring at the left side of my face. She quickly looked away and went to her coffee. I looked straight forward and sighed.

I know what she's thinking. It's the same thing everyone thinks. They all want to know how I got the scar. I would too if I saw someone else with a scar that covered half of their face. But it's a problem for me as a person and as a hero. I have to cover it when I'm a hero and then lie about it when I'm a person. "Sorry."

I looked at her. "Don't be."

"How'd it happen?" she looked at me. "How'd all of that happen?" I knew she was referring to the other bruises and stuff from last night. I stuck the straw in the corner of my mouth and took a long drink, thinking of a reply. I pulled the straw out and then tapped the plastic cup. "Do you get beat up often?"

"Only on days ending in 'Y'," I smirked. "Hazard of the job."

"Which one?" she asked. I looked at her. Like, really looked at her. I studied her eyes and she stared back into mine. Who is this girl? She broke the staring contest with a smile and then took a drink of her coffee. She sat it down and then looked at me. It suddenly dawned on me, a crazy thought, and I sat back with a scoff.

"You're the other one," I said in disbelief. I glanced around the café before leaning in, lowering my voice. "You're the other vigilante in town. The one with the cross bow."

"And you're the one with the bow."

I must have looked funny, completely shocked and dumbfounded. "Why are you really here? Need pointers or something? From what I hear, your aim could use some work."

She chuckled, a closed mouth smile. "Relax. I don't need your help," she said. "And my aim is just fine."

"Right." I sat back.

"I came to see if _you_ needed help."

"Uh…no," I said it like it was a duh statement. I leaned back in. "Dealing with The Punisher is bad enough, and I'm in over my head as it is. I don't need to be worrying about someone else."

"So, you've met him?"

" _Fought_ him. Yeah, I did. And he's not someone you want to mess with. Trust me, kid. We've got it handled. But, thanks anyway." I sat back. "My advice. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. Go back to cheap shots and failed heroics that end up on YouTube next to that webbed idiot. What we're up against…this isn't child's play. This is the real deal. This isn't stopping someone from mugging a grandma. This is people get hurt and people die. Usually the ones closest to you."

I glanced around and then looked back at her. "Go home, and if you have it, hug your family. Stay out of this one. We've got it." I leaned in. "Get some training. Learn the ropes. Do that, and maybe next time I'll let you help. But I'm not risking it, this time. You got it, Cheap Shot?" I sat back.

She nodded. "Fair enough." She looked like she had a bitter taste in her mouth. "Don't like the name, though."

"Well, it's yours until you come up with something better." I took a drink of my coffee. I sat it down. "Though, if we ever did fight together…" I looked out at the café, "that'd be one epic crossover."

"We're in the same city," she looked confused.

I looked at her. "Are we really?" It was rhetorical. And I think she knew it. I stood and then looked at her. "Thanks for the coffee. We should do this again, minus the door." She was looking straight forward, away from me. But I still saw the hint of a smile. I turned and walked away. I'm sure she's disappointed, but I don't really care. Her safety matters more than her feelings.

 **(Author's Note: To find out the kind of hero Tayla is, be watching for her upcoming story 'Love and War' by DubonetTheWriter.)**


	12. Two Days Later

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I inhaled the smell of vanilla scented candles as I readjusted my position on the wooden pew. Father Lantom was giving a speech about something but I wasn't paying attention. My eyes were stuck on the silver canister holding Grotto's ashes while I zoned out a little. I replayed what happened that night at the warehouse. All the things that went wrong. I could've acted sooner. But what would that have done? What could I have done, honestly?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So why do I feel so guilty? A squeeze of my hand caught my attention and I snapped back to reality, turning my head to look at Matt. He was sitting directly to my right. The whole service, he held my hand for support and I practically clung to his arm for stability. "Service is over," he said, causing me to look up. Father Lantom seemed to have just finished. I nodded and Matt sighed. "You okay?"

"How would I be okay with any of this?" I ask, rhetorically.

He nodded in understanding and I dropped his hand to stand. Karen stood from the other side of Matt and walked over to me. She held out her arms and I walked into them, returning her hug. "Hang in there, okay?" she said, quietly. "If you wanna talk…if you need someone, I'm here."

I stepped back and gave the biggest smile I could manage—and it was pretty small. "Thank you, Karen. Same here." She nodded once and started making her way to the exit. Foggy stood and I turned back to Matt. He stood and turned to face me. "Can I ask you something?" he asked, lightly.

I nodded once. "Sure."

"On the roof, when we fought the Dogs of Hell…Dani said you wanted her not to hurt The Punisher," he recalled. I quickly twisted to see behind me. Foggy had moved toward the front of the church and was now talking to Karen by the door. I turned back to Matt just as he continued. "I know _Dani_ wasn't lying. Knowing firsthand what we're dealing with, why would you ask her not to do that?"

He didn't sound angry or anything—and for that I was thankful—he just seemed genuinely curious. Either way I play this he'll be suspicious. So I'll just tell the truth. Well, most of it. "The man is obviously troubled. After what happened to him, he needs more help than just a boot to the face," I explained, calmly. "What kind of people would we be if we just threw him in jail and ignored that?"

"But you disagree with his methods, don't you?" he asked, obviously seeking reaffirmation.

I sighed, nodding. "The killing, I could do without, yeah."

"I thought so. I just…this whole thing's got me rethinking what side we're all on, you know?" he vented, exhaling, like it'd been a weight lifted from his shoulders. He paused a moment, thinking. Then he looked up at me with a closed-mouthed smile and held out his elbow. "Walk you out?"

"Alright, I guess I can let it slide this once," I nodded, hooking my arm with his.

Even in the dreary mood of the morning he still managed to crack a bit of a chuckle. We went outside along with Foggy and Karen. I had to lie and say I was going to get things for the Café and I wouldn't be able to take passengers, just to make sure no one could carpool. In all honesty, I wasn't going too incredibly far. But the others decided to take a cab to the office anyway so I was in the clear.

I got in my car and drove straight to an address written on a small piece of torn, folded paper in my jacket pocket. I'd never been to this particular part of Hell's Kitchen. But it wasn't that hard to find. I pulled up next to a large open alley area and cut the engine. I glanced around. I briefly wondered if this was the right place, but then I noticed that a van was parked parallel to me several yards to my right. Yep, this was the right place.

I unclipped my seatbelt and slid out, shutting my door behind me. The heat was enough already this morning to cause me not to really need to close my jacket, so I decided to leave it unzipped and just slide my hands in my pockets. I stepped around the front of the car and leaned my butt into the passenger side, near the door. Now I just wait. He said to meet him here at x time and I'm here at x time. It didn't take long for Frank to climb out of the back of the van.

He shut up the doors and turned, starting my way. "Am I late? You said nine," I called, recalling our phone conversation last night. I was able to convince Frank to at least have a burner phone so that, if need be, we could communicate without my vigilante partners finding out. He stopped a foot in front of me with an expression that was a mixture of amused and serious, his eyebrows lowered a fraction of an inch.

"You're not late," he tilted his head, suddenly a little more serious than amused. "Why the black outfit?"

I glanced down at myself. It was just a plain black shirt with a matching pleated skirt and tights. This funeral service was really just an excuse to wear my black ankle boots. My Angel jacket was the only thing not black. I looked back up at Frank, squinting a little in the sunlight. "Grotto's funeral service was this morning," I answered, lightly.

"And you went?"

"Yes, I did. Is that a problem?" I loosely crossed my arms, cocking an eyebrow. He looked like he wanted to say more. Like there were a million things he _could've_ said, swirling around his head, but he chose not to. He gave a shake of his head, "No."

I pushed off the car. "Good. Because I don't think I could stomach getting my head bitten off a _second_ time." I tried for a small smile, trying to make myself seem okay after this morning. _Okay_ hasn't been in my vocabulary since James died. It wasn't even okay before that. Frank was watching me closely, reading me.

It was a bit unnerving just _how_ observant he was. I cracked a fake and somewhat nervous sounding chuckle and gestured toward the car—mostly just to get the attention off of me. "Enough about me. _You_ have somewhere to be," I waved it away, and immediately walked around the front of the car. "Get in, loser, we're going shopping." I pulled open my door and paused, seeing the confused look in his face.

I sighed. "It's a line from Mean Girls, it was a movie…? Look, just, never mind."

I slid into the seat, behind the wheel, and shut the door behind me. This was not going well. _Get it together, Alison_. Grotto's dead and it's upsetting—but this is no time to get emotional over something that could be easily categorized as _ridiculous_. Turning the key in the ignition I simultaneously clipped on my seatbelt. As I did, Frank slid in and shut his door. I pulled out of the decrepit alley area and started driving.

Once again, the car was silent. I couldn't tell if the silence was really welcomed. Even if I did want to talk I wouldn't know what to say. So I just kept driving and didn't bother trying. There would be plenty of talking to do once we got to our destination, anyway. Little did he know, it wasn't his apartment. "Where are we going?" Frank asked, eyes moving quickly as he looked out his window.

Inhaling, I tried not to smile. "You'll see." It was quiet a second and I took a quick glance his direction. He was eyeing me, a thoughtful expression ever present. "What are you doing, Alison?" he asked, calmly, almost not even sounding like a question.

I settled my eyes back on the road. "I told you—you'll see." He sighed through his nose in an almost annoyed way, but settled on looking back out his window, keeping it to himself. One or two more turns and we were pulling up outside of Dani's building. I knew for a fact that Dani wasn't going to be here. And, sure enough, her car was nowhere in sight. I unclipped my seatbelt and propped open my door.

"We're here—come on." Stealing his line, I slid out of the car and shut my door, then dug in my pocket for the key. I knew it was in there somewhere. Now not only was my purse a black hole where things go in but never come out, but my Angel jacket pockets are as well. Lovely. Frank got out of the car and joined me on the sidewalk. He looked at me funny and I gave an apologetic looked. "One sec," I held up a finger.

It took one more minute, but I finally managed to dig out the key to the apartment. I hummed and started to the door to the building. "Don't worry—it's safe in here," I promised, tossing the words over my shoulder. Just as I neared the door, Frank was suddenly at my side, grabbing the door handle before I could. I paused as he pulled it open, a bit taken aback. "Thank you," I smiled a little, almost in shock.

He nodded once as I passed through and followed right behind me. It was amazing to me—and a bit perplexing—that a guy who barely sleeps, is stuck on the loss of his family, and murders people would open the door for a woman. Or anyone, really. But I shook it off as we got to the stairs. Dani never really uses the third floor of the building so that's exactly where we're going. Part of me was still wondering if this was a lucrative plan.

Dani could randomly check in on the level at any time and spoil everything in the most horrendous way. But there was no way he was going to spend another night at that ratty building with the Irish gunning for him. No, this idea was much better. And for now it's free. I'll find a way to pay Dani back later. Finally, after climbing the stairs for what felt like forever and a day, we made it to the third floor.

How tall were these stupid ceilings? It was only three floors! I sighed and started down the hall. "And…" I found the door marked B9 and stopped. "Here we are." I flashed a closed-mouthed smile over my shoulder at Frank before shoving the key in the lock. With a little jerking it opened right up. I pushed through the door and flipped on the lights. All the apartments in Dani's building were fully furnished.

They were just waiting for some poor sap to want a place to rent. "Casa de Punisher," I lightly joked, turning around mid living room. I paused. Frank stood just outside with a curious look on his face. His eyes were narrowed just slightly as an eyebrow moved up. "Who owns this place?" he asked, gesturing a little with his hand.

"A friend of mine. I used to live in the dump right across the street," I answered.

"This friend…he have a name?"

Now _I_ was narrowing my eyes suspiciously. "Dani Dylan— _she's_ a Private Investigator." He stared at me for a long moment. Then he huffed a chuckle, looking away. "This place is owned by a Private Investigator and you want _me_ to stay here?" he asked, rhetorically. "You think that's a good idea?" I knew how it sounded. It sounded so stupid. Yeah, sure, bring a wanted criminal to a PI building and see how long that lasts. But this was safer than he thought.

I exhaled and held up the key. "Dani's sister-in-law gave me this, okay? The _Private Investigator_ doesn't even know you're here, and she never will—not if _I_ have anything to say about it, anyway," I slid the key away with a grumbled sound of annoyance at the thought. "It's in a safer location that's Irish free, it has easy roof access so you don't have to use the front door, it's fully furnished, and it's closer to the Café. It's better all around."

He finally walked inside and stopped just a foot or two from me. His eyes shifted around the room a moment before darting back to mine. "It's closer to the Café, huh?"

"By a couple blocks." I nodded once, the corners of my lips threatening to tug up. I thought I was doing my best to hide it. But, if I had a mirror, I would be able to see that I probably was doing the exact opposite of a good job. I slid my hands in my pockets to keep them from doing anything stupid. Yes, last time I was alone with him we kissed. But I don't know if I should even be taking this down that road.

So I'm staying right here for as long as I can stand it. "Alright," he finally agreed. "I'll stay here."

"It's a good thing you said that, because I actually wasn't asking." This time I actually smiled. I held the key out to him and he took it. His fingers just barely brushed across my palm, and an electric feeling I can only describe as _fire ants_ spread up my arm. I swallowed hard and put my hand right back into my pocket, regretting even taking it out. He huffed a small chuckle and shook his head, "I didn't think you were."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"He's lucky to be alive." Karen was telling us about everything she had discovered about The Punisher, while he was trying to kill us. She was acting like she'd discovered something amazing, something no one's laid eyes on in thousands of years. While some of her info was new to me, most wasn't. But she had an x-ray for someone named Frank Castle. I guess the ADA gave her this stuff.

But, the x-ray was puzzling. It was of a skull with a bullet hole near the right temple. Now the question is how it got there and why. And why is he still alive. Of course, if this is the same Frank, that would explain his mental state. Getting shot in the head is very confusing, I'm sure. "This is all of the stuff the DA's collecting for her case," she continued.

Foggy was to my right, eyeing the x-ray. He's been giving me the cold shoulder since I arrived. I was busy with work this morning or else I would've gone to the funeral. Mainly for Matt's sake. I didn't know Grotto very much, but I know how he died. Story of my life. "And most of it's about The Punisher's victims. The Dogs of Hell, the cartel…but this was in the middle of it. Not someone he shot, him."

"He's insane," Foggy said, lowering the x-ray. "Maybe he shot himself."

"I thought about that. But, at that close of a range…"

"Yeah," I said. "If he tried to kill himself once and it failed…why didn't he try again? Plus, he seems like the guy _to do_ , not try."

She seemed to ignore me, moving on. "Tower obviously slipped this to me for a reason." Great. Now she thinks she has to find Frank. Does she not remember what happened the last time she tried to play hero detective? A man died because she was set on putting her nose _way_ to far up where it didn't belong. "What if The Punisher isn't the worst of it? What if Reyes is trying to cover something up?"

"You think that murderous psychopath isn't the worst of it?" Foggy asked.

"No. And, I think our best shot at protecting Nelson and Murdock, is to find him."

"It's our best shot at career suicide…" Foggy stood as the phone rang in his office. "Or just getting shot." He walked into his office and answered the phone. I glanced around. Matt didn't seem too happy with this. Not the info. No, we can use the info. He just doesn't want Karen getting too close and getting hurt. And, as much as she annoys me, I don't want her becoming a casualty of war.

"Well…" Karen said. "What do you think, Dani? Can you maybe…dig a little deeper, find something else, a part of the story that's missing?" I was slightly shocked. Mainly 'cause I'm not sure what to say. Truth be told, if I tried hard enough, I could find him. I might've even found him before he attacked the hospital, if he hadn't have found me first. Speaking of which, he knows who I am. I wonder what he'll do with that…

I shook my head and uncrossed my arms. "I'm not sure. I mean, we only have this because the ADA leaked it," I said. "But I do think there's more to this than a crazy guy running around town killing. It's obviously not random. We just have to find the pattern. But, you shouldn't get close to this, Karen. Let me look into it. It's my job to get caught in the crossfire."

"Which seems to happen a lot," she commented, looking down at the desk. I smiled, because it was nicer than slapping her. "I have," I continued, "a few friends that can help. One's a _good_ PI, not far from here. The other works for the government. They have a lot of strings to pull, and I have a few favors to cash in on. Let me talk to them before you stick your neck out any farther."

She nodded, seeming to like the idea. "Okay," she said, running a hand through her hair. I nodded.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

With Chase and a take-out bag in hand, it was back up the three flights of stairs in Dani's building. About half way there was when Chase started talking again. He'd stopped in the car. But, I guess it was coming sooner or later. "Why are we here again?" he questioned, curiously.

"We're having dinner with a friend," I reiterated, as we reached the top of the stairs. Chase let go of my hand as we did, walking a little bit ahead of me. He was only eager to come because the take-out was from his favorite Chinese place. Last time we were there, Chase tore through at least five pairs of chopsticks trying to get it right. Let's just say he still hasn't mastered it. My stomach was in knots. I wasn't even sure if I'd be able to eat.

This could go really well or really, really bad. I was leaning more toward bad—hence the out of control nerves. I swallowed it down as best I could as we reached the right door. Mary had given me two keys when she initially told me about this place. I tried to give both to Frank earlier but he told me to keep one in case I needed in. So I dug out the spare key and shoved it in the lock. "Remember what we talked about," I said, directing it over my shoulder to Chase.

He sighed heavily, tiredly. "I know, I know. Be on my best behavior."

"And don't do anything stupid, right?"

"Right," he bobbed his head. I nodded once in response and pushed open the door to the apartment. The key was a little hard to get back out of the knob. I struggled with it a minute, but was able to pull it loose, and then slid it back into my pocket. Chase stepped in and I closed the door behind us. "Frank?" I glanced around. "You in here somewhere?" He wasn't anywhere in the main room. While I waited for a response, I took the take-out to the dining table.

It plopped onto the wood and Chase blew air through his lips in a bored way. "Stay here, alright?" I instructed, pointing at Chase as I walked past him. He nodded with a tired expression and I made my way back to the bedroom area, down a short hallway. The door was cracked by about five or six inches, so I rapped my knuckles on it twice before slowly easing it open enough for me to slip through if needed.

I took one step inside and paused. "Frank?" He suddenly stepped out of the already opened door bathroom, startling me a little. Everything would have been fine. Great, even. But he wasn't wearing a shirt—just pants, shoes, and silver dog tags—making me wish I'd stayed in the living room. My cheeks felt warm. I pointed to the dog tags as he walked toward me. "Those yours?"

He nodded once, stopping a foot from me. "Yeah. US Marine Corp."

"Nice," I nodded slowly, trying to keep my eyes above chest level—and failing. "My dad was Air Force."

"Where is he now?" he asked, curious.

"Somewhere pleasant I hope. I don't really know—he died when I was fifteen."

His features softened a bit. "Sorry to hear that."

"It was a long time ago," I waved it away, loosely folding my arms. "Anyways, diner is in the living room—waiting with Chase." He walked over to the bed a few feet my left and grabbed a wadded up shirt. "You still sure this is a good idea?" he asked, sounding mostly rhetoric. He pulled the shirt over his head and tugged the dog tags out before turning back to me with a questioning stare.

I inhaled, nodding. "If he freaks out, I'll just explain to him all the things you told me." He walked back over to his original position—a few inches closer this time—standing in front of me with a sigh. I nodded my head toward the door in a _follow me_ gesture and started back out to the living room. When we arrived, Chase was draped across the couch, looking extremely bored. Frank stopped near the entrance to the living room but I continued around the front of the couch.

"Chase?" Chase instantly perked up, sitting up to look at me. "There's someone I want you to meet." I gestured over his shoulder and he slid off the couch before turning around. Everything in Chase seemed to go rigid in an almost deer-in-headlights state. This is not good. "MMMOOOMMMRUNNNNNN!" Chase's words slurred together in one long battle cry as he bolted for the door.

I sighed heavily and hurried after him. I wrapped my arms around his torso before he could reach the door and he swatted at me. "Chase, stop it, you're being ridiculous!" I said, pulling him back toward the couch. Ha, more like _dragged_. He tried grabbing at furniture to stop his backward movement, but it was to no avail. "MOMHE'SGOINGTOKILLUS!" he thrashed against me, hard.

This is just great. I huffed in frustration and set his feet on the floor. I knelt in front of him, grabbing his upper arms to make him look at me. "Cha- Chase! Stop it." He fidgeted, but I quickly got his attention, making him hold still a moment. "We're perfectly safe, okay? He won't hurt you, I promise."

"But he's the guy that shot Dani!" he pointed out, sounding angered.

I nodded. "I know. Listen to me. He didn't mean to hurt Dani that night, alright? He's not the bad guy. Just give him a chance." His bottom lip was pushed out in a lightly pouty expression with his eyebrows furrowed tightly. I could tell he was trying his hardest not to say yes. I stood and turned him to face Frank by his shoulders. "Chase, this is Frank Castle. Frank, this is my son Chase." Frank's expression was unreadable.

I couldn't quite tell what was going on in his mind. Usually it's really easy. He nodded to Chase. "It's nice to meet you. Your mom's told me a lot about you."

"She never mentioned _you_ ," Chase replied, miffed.

I sighed as my shoulder dropped, and I looked up at Frank. "He _really_ likes Dani," I reasoned, apologetically. "Let's just sit down and see where it goes." He nodded once, then glanced down at Chase. He eyed him a minute before heading to the dining area. I nudged Chase forward and he begrudgingly came with me to the table. This was off to a rocky start but I was determined to make it work.

Chase was being downright awful, and seating arrangements were a little awkward because of it. I sat at the head whilst Frank sat just to my right and Chase to my left. It provided a whole foot and a half of space between them, but it was close enough that things could still progress. Chase ate quietly for a while. I sighed through my nose and glanced at Frank while stirring my rice. He was staring hard at Chase and Chase was staring right back defiantly.

The first fifteen minutes of dinner was pretty much just that—and only that. Finally, I decided that was enough. I sat up in my chair. "Chase-"

"Are you two _dating_?" Chase questioned, looking appalled, beating me to words. I inhaled sharply and, once again, my cheeks were my own personal ovens. I gave Chase a stern look. "Chase Mathew Fletcher, I will not hesitate to take you outside so we can have a really intense discussion. Is that what you want?" I asked, coolly, ignoring his question. "Because that's what's coming."

"Alison, it's fine," Frank waved it away, giving a shake of his head. I exhaled and turned to him. He looked like he expected exactly what was going on, like he'd prepared for this and therefore nothing Chase could say or do would surprise him. I expected a bad turnout as well. But a part of me was hoping that Chase would come around. "How many people have you killed? Do you keep track?" Chase asked, suddenly.

My eyes rounded and I instantly turned on him. "That is _enough_. You've lost your free speech privileges," I told him, sternly. "No more comments that you wouldn't say to me, understand?" He sighed and nodded, leaning back in his chair, mopey. I heard a light chuckle and looked at Frank. He looked between Chase and I. "You two are like an old married couple," he commented, obviously amused by it.

I tilted my head in an expression. "Well, usually I don't have to get _mean_. He's had a bad week."

"I can see that," Frank nodded, glancing at Chase.

"Why am I here?" Chase questioned, to no one in particular.

Frank inhaled. "Well, your mom wanted us to meet and smooth things over. Given how we last met, it wouldn't surprise me if you hated me for the rest of your life. For the record, though, I had no idea you or your babysitter were going to be there that night, alright? What happened, happened, and there's no changing it. But your mom wanted this, so I agreed to it. That's all that's happening here."

Chase eyed him quietly a moment. His features were slightly more relaxed, but he still looked ready to run. He raised an eyebrow curiously. "So you're just doing this because of her?" He jabbed his thumb in my direction.

Frank nodded once. "Yeah."

"Are you in love with her, or something?" I nearly spewed water across the table, as I was taking a drink when Chase said the most embarrassing thing he could have possibly dreamt up. But I quickly recovered—almost able to act like that didn't just happen. Frank chuckled. "Uh, I'm not sure I know that yet, kid," he answered.

"Well, don't get any ideas," Chase crossed his arms firmly. "I still have the final word before you get married."

"Okay, _okay_ —time out," I held up my hands, ready for it to end. I took a deep breath. "Let's stay in the shallow end, yeah? Chase, nobody's getting married."

"Then why the formal sit down?" he threw his arms out.

"I'm not trying to get your blessing! I want you to move on after what happened," I explained, inwardly calming myself the best I could manage.

"Well that's less interesting." With that, Chase went back to eating, as if that whole conversation hadn't just happened. At least now he seemed a little more at ease. I exhaled and tried to relax in my chair. But after what Chase said I couldn't help but feel a little weird. My cheeks were still feeling kind of warm. Thankfully my stomach knot had untied itself a little bit earlier. Unfortunately now it's back.


	13. One Batch, Two Batch

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, sitting on the park bench next to Frank. He'd parked himself in front of the carousel at the park. The sound of children laughing mixed with the echo of the corny carnival music. I briefly wondered if these people, smiling and laughing, were how his family looked that day at this very place. My chest felt a little weighed down at the thought. I glanced at Frank. His eyes were fixated on the ride, lost in deep thought.

It was almost like he was in a trance. The ride ended shortly and the people began to exit. It was only a few minutes before the park closed down for the night. Once everyone was off, the lights to the ride flickered off. There was enough light from the moon to see regardless. Frank blinked a few times, and then he looked over at me. "You didn't have to come, you know."

"I know," I nodded. He faced the carousel with a hollow sigh through his nose. I felt something brush my hand and my eyes instantly shifted down. His hand found mine, intertwining his fingers with it. I returned the slightly firm hold and leaned into his side, letting my head rest on his shoulder. The crickets were in full swing. But the semi-quiet was still just as nice. I let my eyes close for a moment. I felt Frank shift.

Then I heard a lone, "Nice night."

It was odd, so I sat up a little—just enough to see who had spoken. Some guy sat on the park bench a couple yards to the left of ours with a smug look to his face. It only took me a second to notice the guys dressed in black not far down the fence line from him. I looked up at Frank. There was a look of surprise mixed with realization in his eyes. The guy on the park bench opened his jacket enough to show he was packing.

He gestured slightly, still looking incredibly smug. "I'm not alone," he said, like it was obvious. No duh, Sherlock. I sat up completely, my heart starting to beat faster. The Irish. It had to be them. My head snapped right as two men with guns hanging loosely in their hands walked around the side of the carousel. "You wanna come with us…or you wanna make a mess in front of your girl?" the guy on the bench asked, knowingly.

Frank eyed the man for a moment. Then he dropped my hand and stood. My heart was now up in my throat. How is he going to fight his way out of this one, completely unprepared? I stood, not quite knowing what to do. Frank started walking toward the guy on the bench. The guy on the bench stood and started for Frank, pulling his gun. Frank grabbed the guy's wrist and twisted the gun away from him while simultaneously ramming his forehead into the other guy's.

My body instinctively jolted a bit in surprise. They turned left, just enough for the Irish guy to stab some kind of syringe into Frank's shoulder. My eyes widened. Why would they need a syringe? Oh no. _Not a sedative_. Frank got the upper hand on the guy, slamming his fist into his shoulder and into his face a couple times. He turned the guy around and around an arm around his neck to hold him still. "Alison," he called. "Behind me."

If only I'd thought to bring my gun to this. He didn't have to tell me twice to get me to move. I dove behind him as he turned his back toward me, putting himself and his hostage in between me and the Irish. We were backed up to the carousel now. "Don't shoot! We want him alive!" the guy Frank held hollered. Frank yanked the syringe out of his neck and tossed it away.

"Who, who wants me alive?" he questioned, pulling a gun from his belt and pressing the barrel to the hostage's head.

"Drop it! Drop it!" All of them were shouting the same thing.

"Calm down! Everyone calm down!" the hostage yelled. "No one shoot!" My back was pressed against the rot iron fence that was just before the carousel. My chest heaved, struggling to catch up with my pulse—moving way too fast. Frank glanced between the men on either side of us. Then he pointed his gun and shot at the men to the right. The men to the left fired as Frank turned, facing the hostage toward them.

The hostage was shot several times, not a bullet touching Frank, as Frank shot down the men on the left. Once they were all out he dropped the now practically dead Irish member from his arm and quickly backed up, getting as close to me as possible with an arm around my front. He aimed his gun in all directions, on alert. But something wasn't right. He'd stumbled just once backing up. And his hand gripped my arm tightly, almost for support.

"Frank? Frank, are you okay?" I asked, concern rising quickly in my voice. The lump in my throat almost made it impossible to speak loud enough to be heard. My hands were shaking violently from the adrenaline but I was holding myself up. Frank stammered to the left a bit, tripping over himself. He continued to look around wildly. I grabbed his right arm to help steady him. "Stay- stay behind me," he said, stumbling back in front of me.

Just then, I heard footsteps and a voice that could only belong to a face you'd want to punch, "Thanks for thinning out the herd." I still clung to Frank's arm, being practically the main thing keeping Frank upright as he turned us to face the approaching Irish members. Three had guns and the fourth walked up casually with his hands in his pockets—arrogantly, like he owned the place.

They got closer and Frank moved backward, pushing me back with him until we'd reached a metal support beam for the ride. "You're surrounded, son," the arrogant one said. Sure enough, we were. The three gunners stood in perfect positions to not possibly get taken out at once. And, if you tried, you would get hit before taking down the third guy. "Now be a good lad and drop the iron."

Frank's arm tightened around me and so did his grip on the gun, but he wobbled slightly, breathing a bit heavily. "Come on. You seem like a smart one," the arrogant one said, standing not less than at least four feet from us. Something tightened around my waist from behind a second before a force tugged me back. I gasped from sheer surprise. Not a second after I'd been pulled backward, tazer darts hit Frank's chest and back.

" _Frank_!"

I thrashed against whatever idiot was holding onto to me so tightly, swinging my elbow. It only prompted the guy to synch an arm around my shoulders to keep my arms down, forcing me to hold still. I cringed at the scene in front of me. "Stop! Stop it!" I tried thrashing, wriggling, pulling. Nothing worked. Frank tried his best to get up but the electricity was bringing him to his knees. The clicking on the tazers stopped. Frank teetered for a disoriented second.

Then he collapsed completely to the ground. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend," the arrogant one mused, walking a little more toward me. I could see Frank's eyes shift up slowly, just barely enough to meet mine. They were only open for a second before slamming shut. "Let's keep her. She could prove useful." My chest felt tight as I struggled to breathe against my own skin. Now I was just angry. I sent my head back into the guy holding me.

The back of my head collided with his nose and I heard a loud crack. He cried out, letting me go enough for me to turn, grab his gun, and slam the butt of it across his left temple. He hit the floor and I whirled to face the Irish guy—the guy I'm presuming to be the leader. I aimed the gun at him and cocked it. A smiled broke out across his face. "Oh, she's a _feisty_ one. You'd have to be to love a monster like that," he commented.

He motioned with his hand and the other two gunmen started for me. I turned, aimed, and sent a bullet into one of the men's shoulders. He recoiled with a cry of pain just as the second one was on me. I hiked up my leg and slammed my heel into his gut. He was pushed back a step, groaning. I spun and sent my other heel into the side of his head. My body jolted and I gasped an almost shriek as someone grabbed me from behind.

Arms encircled my middle and held on tightly. I squirmed and pulled against the iron grip of this moron, but I wasn't getting anywhere. I aimed the gun down at the ground and fired. He cried out and dropped me as the bullet went through his shoe. "Alright, that's enough," the arrogant one said, just before tiny pricks hit my middle. Then suddenly it felt like pure fire was being pumped into my veins. I cried out as my knees buckled.

The pain stopped as I dropped, arms catching me and lugging me up before I could hit the ground. My head swirled. The rest of me felt a stinging sensation deep in my skin. I was completely out of breath and just as limp. I couldn't make my limbs move even if I wanted to. One of the men hefted me over his shoulder and I groaned at the stabbing pain in my skull. "Let's hurry up. We have work to do."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I leaned against the wall, arms crossed. This is stupid. I should be in there. Another shooting spree took place at Stanley's Bar. So, we decided to check it out. It's our only chance at getting a lead on The Punisher, since he cleared out of his apartment. But, Matt insisted on talking with Mahoney alone. Like, why am I even here, anymore? Matt seems to be real adamant about running solo, these days. And, like the idiot I keep proving to be, I listened to him when he said to stay here.

I don't know why I do that. I've become too dependent. That needs to change. The back door flung open and Daredevil walked out toward me. "He says this was the Irish. They're looking for him, ripping the city apart to do it."

"Wonderful."

"There were shots fired at the park on 65th, by the carousel."

"Then let's go. Maybe beat Mahoney," I said. He nodded. We quickly made our way there, trying to beat all law enforcement. And we did. We arrived in record time. We headed straight for the carousel, keeping our eyes open. We got there and found three dead men. They were lying on the pavement, strewn about. Bullet casings lay around amongst them.

"Over here," Daredevil said before turning and walking toward the carousel. I followed in his general direction. I walked around a pillar and then glanced to my left and Daredevil was gone. Shocker. I continued, to the back of the amusement ride. A guy was on the ground, trying to drag himself away. Hmm, one survived. "Well, look at you," I said in a playful taunt. The guy whipped around and stared at me, starting to panic.

The guy looked back, trying to crawl faster, as Daredevil walked up to him. He stopped and looked up at him. Daredevil grabbed him by his shirt and picked him up, slamming him into one of the horses on the ride. The guy groaned and then went for his gun. He pulled it out as Daredevil pointed it at the ceiling. I walked over to them as he fired two bullets in the air. Daredevil disarmed him and then held his hand in an uncomfortable position.

I stopped two feet from Daredevil. "We're not here to play Cops and Robs," I said. "We're here for info."

"Who did this?" Daredevil asked.

"People you don't mess with," the guy said.

"You're bleeding out. And I got all night."

The guy glanced between the two of us. I crossed my arms, "Don't look at me. I'd be doing worse to you."

"Go to Hell!" the guy shouted.

"Too late," I snapped, and took a few steps closer. "Tell us what we want to know before I make your death as slow and painful as possible. Now, who did this?" He looked me right in the eyes. He stared and I stared back. He finally broke it, glancing down and swallowing. Then he looked back up. "The one they call Punisher," he said.

"Where is he?" Daredevil asked.

The guy laughed manically. "It doesn't matter 'cause when we're done with him, he's as good as dead."

"That's helpful." He twisted the guys wrist, unleashing a series of cracks. The guy screamed. "But that's not what I asked." I smiled. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I sighed. I pulled it out. Foggy was calling me. That's odd. I turned and walked a few feet away, answering it. "Not the best time."

"I'm sure," he sighed. "Are you with Matt?" I glanced over my shoulder, at him interrogating a half dead guy.

I turned back. "Yeah, why?"

"Can I talk to him? He's not answering," Foggy said. Yeah, cause The Punisher smashed his other one. I sighed. "One sec," I pressed the phone into my shoulder. I looked back just as Daredevil was walking toward me. "You get it?" He nodded. "Good. I have a call for you." He looked at me questioningly as I gave him the phone. He took it as sirens filled the air. "Walk and talk." I nudged him forward.

We started walking away from the park. The last thing I want is to run into a cop. Their phone call was brief and Daredevil looked angrier with each passing second. I pretended not to listen. He closed the phone and gave it back. "Everything okay?" I asked, putting my phone in my pocket. He stopped and turned toward me. I stopped, having to take a step back. We were at a safe distance from the cops now, so that didn't concern me.

"I need to tell you something," he said. Okay, now he's starting to worry me. I nodded. "Foggy and I were worried about Alison, so we put a tracker on her."

"You what?" It sounded more shocked than angry, 'cause I was. I scoffed. "Where'd you get a tracker?" I could tell by the look on his face that I wasn't going to like the answer. "From me," I said in realization and disbelief. "You stole a tracker from me, and planted it on our friend."

"I know, I-" he stammered. "It was Foggy's idea-"

"And you went along with it," I crossed my arms. I stared at him as he refused to reply. I sighed in annoyance. "So…" I shrugged hard, shaking my head. "Why are you telling me this?"

It took him a couple seconds to reply. And when he did, he treaded the waters carefully. "Foggy was in charge of keeping an eye on the signal," he started. "About ten minutes ago, he lost it."

"What? It stopped transmitting?"

"I don't know. But it stopped, here. At _this_ park." A pit was starting to form in my stomach. "By the carousel."

"She's with him," I barely got the words out, and still, they came out a whisper. I got this really bad feeling. Like the kind I had right before I found my brother, dead. I looked around and slowly blew air out my mouth, trying to rein in my emotions. "She was with him. They have her, too. They'll use her."

"I know."

"We need to go." I turned and started walking. I pulled out my phone and dialed Mary's number. Daredevil took over navigation, since he's the one the guy told where to go. I followed, listening to it ring. She didn't pick up, so I left a message. "Mare, Matt and I are on the streets. Listen, we have a problem. I want you to take Chase to my place, and lock it down. Don't open the door until you see my face."


	14. Penny and Dime

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I groaned a little, trying to pull my head upright. The last however-long-I-was-out was a dense fog. My head felt like a lead weight. "And she's awake," the arrogant voice of that Irish nut from the carousel filtered through my ears. He sounded amused. "That was quite the fight you put up back there. Tell me—who are you supposed to be? Another Vigilante?" I forced my head to face straight forward. My eyes narrowed.

They would've had to squint from the light above my head anyway. But this way it made look like I was angry—which I was. I glared for a second. "What do _you_ care?" I asked, venomously. My voice sounded like I'd just spent hours gargling gravel. It was a little deeper sounding than usual, but it gave me an edge. "Well, you're involvement in all this is a bit of a surprise," he explained, taking a step toward me.

"Look, I don't know what you think you've got with me here. But I'm not his girlfriend," I shook my head—and instantly regretted it. A tidal wave of an ache washed over my head. I swallowed to keep it under wraps. He huffed a semi humorless chuckle and slid his hands into his pockets. "Right. Could've fooled me—the way he was shielding you. You're important to him," he reasoned. "Thank you, because you're going to make my job a whole lot easier."

He turned and started out of the room. It looked like some four-by-four trash hole. The only light was coming through the open door and the single bulb hanging from the ceiling. I tried to move but was instantly pulled back by binds on my wrists, tied behind the back of the chair. A second after he left, I heard his voice echoing in from the next room. It was a bit faint—too faint to make out exact words—but it was nearby.

So Frank wasn't that far. Good. I twisted in the chair to see my wrists. They were tied quite solidly with rope. This is just great. Unfortunately for me, I don't have anything sharp. I'm sure there was a way I could get out of this but I'm not MacGyver. I can't just whip up some instant knife with nothing but air. My heart was starting to thump in my ears. I'd give anything to know what's going on in that other room. To know what they were doing to him.

I probably _didn't_ want to know in reality. Suddenly the head Irish wing nut came through the open doorway, followed by two men. He looked like he was on a mission. "You're boyfriend's having a little trouble seeing the big picture," he said, moving behind my chair. "Why don't we pay him a visit?" He motioned to the two men he brought with him and they came over. I felt the pull at my wrists suddenly stop.

The two men—moving one on either side of me—each grabbed one of my arms tightly and hefted me up to my feet. I yanked against their grip. "I can walk by myself," I spat, but they kept a tight hold on me. The head Irishman walked around to stand a ways in front of me. He shook his head. "We're not making that mistake, again," he disagreed. He started for the door and the men at my sides each gave me a shove.

My feet were forced to move, no matter how much I dug my feet in. They were practically dragging me straight across the hall into another room. I pulled against the men, leaning backward into it. "Oh, come on," the Irish in charge said, stopping to stand mid room. "Don't be shy." I thrashed against the men holding me before I noticed just where we were. The air caught in my lungs. Frank sat tied to a chair near the back of the room.

His face was bloody, beaten. But his eyes were softened as he looked up at me. "Leave her out of this," Frank said, throwing it at the head Irishman. "She doesn't _know_ anything." I startled a little, pulled from my thoughts, when the men that were holding me started pulling to the right. I only went because I didn't have the heart to fight back for only moving a couple feet. They pulled me to a spot not too far from Frank's chair.

They then forced my hands out and started a chain around my wrists, tying them back together. They only wrapped it around a couple times before yanking my hands above my head and hooking the chain to a bar in the ceiling. I was short enough that it was a slight dangle for me. "Maybe so," the Irish idiot agreed, nodding. "But _you_ do. And until you talk, she's going to be a part of this."

"You really think I've never been tortured before?" I asked, rhetorically, tired sounding. The Irishman turned to me with an eyebrow raised, intrigued. "Trust me—this is nothing new."

"We'll see about that, won't we?" He started over to a table in the corner and I inwardly groaned. Great, now I've just set myself up. _Good job, Alison_. My stomach was about to do a roll. The Irishman turned and motioned with his finger to one of the men that dragged me in here. The man nodded and headed toward me. "Don't _touch_ her," Frank protested, anger in his tone. "Don't you dare touch her!"

My fingers just barely had time to grip the chains above them before the man sent his fist into my jaw, forcing my head to the right. A sharp pain shot up the left side of my head as the force jolted me a bit. I pulled my head up just in time to get hit again in the same place. _This is nothing new_ , I told myself. _Just like when the Russians took you_. Except, I almost think that one was worse because one of them had a baseball bat.

After the third hit, he took a step back. I lifted my head despite every nerve ending screaming in protest and spit out a wad of blood. "Is that all you got?" I asked, forcing my eyes up to look at the back of the Irish guy in charge of these misfits. "A few hits to the face?"

"Oh, don't start crying about it," he mused, turning around. He held up a battery power drill with a smug look. "We're only just getting to the fun. You know, I was hoping it would come to this." The two Irish guys that grabbed me moved over to Frank's chair. My stomach turned. They grabbed his shoulders and wrapped their arms around his neck to hold him still. The guy in charge turned on the drill.

 _No, please. No, no, no, no_.

I instinctively pulled at the chain holding me—to no avail of course, but I tried. Every ounce of strength I had left was being thrown into pulling on that chain. The Irishman started for Frank. "Alison, don't look," Frank had to shout a little over the loud buzzing of the drill, getting closer to him by the second.

" _Frank_!" I groaned, pulling against the chains, hard. I looked at the man with the drill. "Stop this, you psychopathic leprechaun!"

" _Look away_ , Alison!" Frank reiterated, sounding more desperate now. My eyes stung and I tried blinking it away but it wasn't working. The Irishman reached Frank's chair, seeming angered now. "Where would you like it?" he pointed the spinning drill at Frank, less than a foot in front of him now. "Here, huh? Here?" The man drove the drill into the top of Frank's foot and I quickly pinned my cheek to my left shoulder, facing away.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as my stomach took a drop. I could look away all I wanted. But I couldn't cover my ears. The sound of the drill mixed with the sloshing, grinding sound of tearing flesh and a muffled scream. "You're not such a big man now, are ya?" the Irish leader shouted to be heard. No matter how tightly I squeezed my eyes shut, it wouldn't stop a few stray tears from sliding down my cheeks.

After a solid couple of minutes the drill shut off. " _Where's my money_?" the Irishman shouted. I finally convinced myself to open my eyes and looked over at them. The two Irish men let go of Frank and stepped back. You couldn't miss the blood oozing out of Frank's shoe, slightly pooling on the floor beneath it. " _Where_ is it?" Frank's eyes shifted over to me, quickly finding mine. Something flashed across his features too quickly for me to really see it.

But I recognized the look he gave me after. _I'm sorry_. It was an apology and an acceptance. I knew exactly what that meant. He was ready for whatever they were going to do to him and he was just sorry I had to watch. I started shaking my head, more water burning their way down my cheeks. The Irish leader turned around to face me. "Alright, then. Let's try a new plan," he suggested, walking back to the table in the corner.

Now I'm going to get it. I closed my eyes, sending a silent prayer to whoever was listening. _Please let me see my son again. Don't leave him orphaned_. I already helped him lose his father; he _cannot_ lose his mother because of my stubbornness as well. I reopened my eyes and settled them on the idiotic Irishman. He put down the drill and walked over to me. I pulled at the chains, struggling against them.

He stepped up on my left side and grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked. I cried out from the pins and needles shooting through my scalp. "If you don't tell me where my money is, everything I've done to you…" he forced my head up straight with a shove, not letting go. I winced. "I'm going to do to your poor girlfriend, here. What was her name? Oh, yes, _Alison_."

I wadded up a ball of saliva in my mouth and launch it at him. It splattered his cheek and he only laughed, wiping it away. "Ah, you see? There it is. It won't be hard to break that fiery spirit she's got," he taunted, letting go of my hair. My chest heaved for an even breath but it couldn't find one. It was ragged and shallow. My fingers encircled the chains just above them to stop their violently trembling. It didn't work. "Let her go—she's got nothing to do with this," Frank tried.

"Tell you what. You tell me where my money is, and we'll only kill _you_." My heart sank, only causing my eyes to sting more. Hiding my fear seemed too extremely hard after that. My whole body was shaking just enough to be noticed. The Irishman picked up the drill off the table and started back for me. _No, no, no, no_. I started thinking about the last thing I'd said to Dani. _I know what I'm doing_. No, I really don't. This is insane!

The Irishman stood not more than a foot in front of me and turned halfway to be able to see both of us. He clicked on the drill and it began buzzing. I closed my eyes, biting my lower lip. _Here we go. Just brace yourself and you'll get through it. Maybe not in one piece but you'll survive_. The buzzing hum of the drill was getting closer. I could feel the wind it created on my face. "Okay, okay- just turn it off you piece of trash," Frank agreed, a second before I heard the drill click off.

My body flushed with some relief as I opened my eyes, but it wasn't enough to make me feel much better. Frank continued, urgently, "Your money's in a van, okay? It's in a van. It's on 48th and 10th. Just…just let her go, you idiot, let her go."

"Aw, he's a lover, that's sweet," the Irishman patronized, walking over to Frank. He used the tip of the drill to force Frank's chin up, making him look at him. "If you don't mind, I'll keep you alive until the cash is safe at hand." He eyed him a second before stepping away, pulling out his cell phone. He dialed a number and put it to his ear. Frank looked up at me. The apologetic look on his face was enough to sway an army.

"48th and 10th. Yeah, make it quick. And watch your backside," the Irish guy said, into the phone. With that, the man turned and headed out of the room. I relaxed against the chains just slightly. A burning in my wrists ebbed and I hissed, readjusting them. "This is a stupid question, but," I swallowed. "Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that," he looked up at me with tired eyes. "Listen to me—I'm gonna get us outta here, alright? I got a plan. Just hang on a little while longer." I let my head drop, exhaling. My whole body was one giant sharp pain. I heard footsteps and pulled my head up, against my neck's wishes. The Irish leader walked back into the room, a cell phone to his ear. "Is it all there?" he asked, into the phone.

They found the van. I remember picking up Frank from that exact place. It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? The Irishman went rigid. Then he whirled around, closing his phone. "You son of a-" Another Irish member pulled a gun and aimed it at Frank's head. My eyes widened, my lungs stopped. Frank ripped his wrists free and grabbed the barrel of the gun, aiming it at the ceiling as it fired. The man cried out as his wrist twisted.

Frank reached up and cut the man's neck with something I couldn't quite see from over here. The man dropped to his knees and the head Irishman quickly turned to leave. Frank aimed the gun at his back and fired twice, shooting the leader in the left shoulder both times. My body jolted in reaction. He cried out and dropped to the floor. Frank cut his legs restraints and stood. "He's loose!" the leaders hollered. "Get down here!"

The Irish guy with a slit throat tried to get back up, but Frank turned and shot one bullet into the side of the man's head, sending him back to the ground. I was starting to feel even more nauseous than before. "Jimmy! Shaun!" the leader yelled, bracing himself against the wall by the doorway to the left of me. Frank suddenly turned toward me and aimed high, sending a bullet into the chains above my head.

I squeezed my eyes closed as it broke the chains, snapping them free. My feet hit the floor, now the solid holders of my weight, and everything in me protested. I quickly wiggled the ropes off my wrists and looked back at Frank. He grabbed a shotgun from the toolset beside his chair and racked a bullet into the chamber. He started across the room and fired a bullet into the hallway at his right. It was just in time to hit an incoming Irish member.

The look on Frank's face told me this wasn't going to be good to watch. He was on a mission, looking angered and incredibly focused, walking straight over to the Irish leader by the wall. "Jimmy! Shaun!" the leader yelled as loud as he could, directing his voice out the doorway beside him. Frank walked up to him and aimed the shotgun at the man's face. The man looked up at him. "You wanted this, didn't you?"

"No, I counted on it. Just not tonight," Frank corrected, his tone deathly low. I finally got all the chains off my wrists and they jingled to the floor. "Now I can ask you face to face. Who was there that day? Who killed my family?"

" _You're_ family?" the man asked, seeming annoyed. "Who cares?"

" _Move! Move! Go, go, go._ " Voices echoed in from the hallway. I hurried over to Frank, slightly teetering as I did. I put a hand on his arm and his eyes were instantly on me. "We have to hurry," I said, getting my voice just loud enough to be heard through my own ears. "They're coming." He looked back down at the Irishman and pulled the trigger. Just then, footsteps sounding awfully close from the hallway to our left.

"Take this," Frank turned to me and held out the gun he'd stolen from the Irish. "Use it." You don't have to tell me twice. I quickly grabbed the gun and he fired at the hallway. Two men sidled to each side of the doorway just outside the room and fired in. I ducked and dove to the left side of the room as Frank fired back. I edged behind a foot of wall space and aimed the gun around the corner as I peered over.

I fired twice, providing cover. My hands were shaking almost too hard to use this thing. Blood was tingeing my mouth sour and I spit it out before firing again. Frank turned and started for a door panel of some kind not too far down the left side of the wall from me. The Irish started firing and I shot back behind my foot of cover. A bullet hit Frank's left shoulder blade and he stumbled, but he made it behind the door frame, crouching down.

The Irish continued to fire at the door panel. I saw my chance and fired a couple more times at the doorway. "We got him! Come on!" they hollered, looking down the hallway, out of my sightline. I groaned and hid back behind the wall. I heard a sudden thud and groan just seconds before an Irish guy hit the floor in front of me. And so did a familiar stick. Real relief flooded my bloodstream. Frank tossed the door panel aside and stood, wobbling.

I pushed away from the wall and hurried over to him, grabbing his arm to help him keep upright. He was breathing heavily. Blood was pouring from every orphus. He draped his arm around my shoulder blades in an attempt to pull me into him. I looked up as Daredevil and Angel walked into the room. Dani sent her foot into the side of an Irish guy's head as he tried to get back up. He dropped quickly. Matt picked up his stick and turned to us.

Frank heaved, "They're gonna pay. Every last one of 'em."

"They will. But not tonight. Move."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

Daredevil pointed off to the side, before hiding himself. Alison looked slightly in shock. I'm not surprised. With the way Frank looks, they probably tortured him in front of her. But since she's not dead, he gave them whatever it was they wanted. I grabbed Alison's shoulders and pulled her to the left, Frank going right.

We hid behind a wall. "Stay," I whispered to her. Her eyes finally met mine. She looked like she wanted to see this through, but her emotions weren't going to let her. She looked about ready to burst into tears. "There'll be time for that later, okay? Let's just get you home." I went to join the others in the ensuing fight, but she grabbed my arm. I stopped and looked at her.

"Chase?" she asked, hopeful.

"He's safe," I said before walking away. I caught a glimpse of her sighing with relief as I walked away. Three men had entered the room, and the ones on the ground were starting to stir. We each took one of the standing ones; Daredevil, Frank, and me. My guy had his gun out and was waving it around.

I walked up behind him, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding the gun with my right hand. He pulled the trigger. The bullet bounced off the walls as I twisted his wrist, followed by a crack. He cried out as I swung his arm back toward me, while bringing my left knee into his back. I pushed him to the ground like that, my knee not moving.

I grabbed his hair with my left hand and pulled up his head. I slammed it, face first, back into the ground. His body went limp as I caught movement to my right. Some guy was charging me with a gun, just as Daredevil smacked Frank's gun out of his hand. I rolled on my back toward Frank. I caught his gun as it fell and then jumped to my feet. I shot the guy in both knee caps. He screamed and fell.

I dropped the gun's clip and then removed the bullet from the chamber. I dropped it as I saw Frank pick up a hammer. He got down on the ground and swung it back, aimed at someone's head. _Really? Was that really necessary?_ Thankfully, Daredevil spun around and pulled the hammer out of his hands.

"No killing," he said.

"Altar boy," Frank said and I smiled. Alison was not too far behind then. A guy was on the floor trying to get up. She walked up to him and kicked him in the head. He fell back down, limp. She looked up at me and I nodded. "We need to go," she practically pleaded.

Daredevil reached down and helped Frank stand. He was not walking out of here without help. I quickly walked over to them and slipped under Frank's left arm, helping him. We walked out of the room and then started down the hall. Frank looked down at me. "Why are you helping me? Twice now I've tried to kill you." He sounded tired and out of breath. Yet, I could still hear the genuine curiosity in his voice.

"I know," I said. "And twice now, the devil inside me has told me to kill _you_." Now I had peeked everyone's interest. "Lucky for you-" I adjusted his arm on my shoulder, "-I haven't been listening to him much." We made our way out of the building. I have no idea what the plan is. I don't think anyone does. Frank needs medical attention. Like, an _actual_ doctor.

We stumbled through the cemetery, across the street from where we were. We made it about fifty yards in, when Frank started to give out. He was tripping more, giving us more of his weight to hold. Until he stopped trying to walk at all. He went completely limp. I couldn't take the sudden force of weight and dropped to one knee. Daredevil tried to continue but he quickly saw that there was no point to it.

We propped him against a head stone. He looked done. Like, done done. Like, he'd just roll over in his grave right now and be cool with it. Alison rushed down to his side, checking his injuries like she does. I sat on the grass a foot away, panting. Daredevil stood, doing the same. I mean, I knew Frank was a big guy, but…I had no clue.

"Alison," Frank said. "Stop." I looked up at them. He had a hold of her wrist. She looked worried and annoyed at the same time. Her bubble deflated and she backed off. She stood and put her hands on her hips. Frank looked at me, letting his head role my way, and then to Daredevil. "Not bad."

"Thanks," Daredevil slightly chuckled. Frank looked tired, he was out of breath. When he spoke, his voice had an unnatural rasp to it, like something was wrong with his lungs. Not surprising. His face was covered in blood, he got shot at least once, and something happened to his foot. I'm sure Alison will fill me in later.

I'm still mad he tried to kill me. Both times. The time with Chase…that was horrible and I never want that to happen again. The time on the roof…he put a gun to my head and made my boyfriend choose between saving me and becoming a killer. Only someone really twisted would do that. But, here, right now…the only thing I felt towards him was sorry.

"I guess I, uh…I guess I was wrong."

"About?"

"About you being a pussy."

"Don't get all sweet on me now, Frank," Daredevil said. I smiled at his joking tone. Frank laughed and then went into a coughing fit. Yeah…even I know something's not right, that he needs a doctor. Alison does too. She was biting at the bit. Like, quite literally. She was biting her bottom lip, crossing her arms. She wanted to step in and fix him, but knew she couldn't. I could've sworn I heard him cough up blood.

"Help's on the way."

"Nah." Frank glanced at Alison, and then looked at me. "You should go." His stare lingered and I knew what he meant. _I should make Alison leave_. He knows who I am. He knows Alison and I are friends, that she'll listen to me. But I'm not sure she'd let me leave him here. "I'm past saving." He looked off somewhere. "At least I'd have company, right?" referring to the cemetery full of dead people. "I think I might cash out."

Daredevil got down on one knee, preparing to stay. Alison was a mess. She moved on to her fingers after chewing a hole in her lip. I can see the blood on her lip sparkling in the moon light. She wanted to say something, to do something, and wasn't. So she's resorted to eating herself. Great. The killer and the cannibal. Sounds like a wonderful combination to me.

"You would've made a hell of a Marine, Red." He looked at me. "What about you?"

"Eh, uh, what?" I was completely taken off guard.

He smiled and then tried again, "You've obviously had training, much better than Red's. You said you've…followed orders, killed people who didn't deserve it." I suddenly got nervous. Do I really want Matt and Alison hearing the answers to whatever he asks? A lot of me is still a mystery to them. If we were alone, I'd probably tell Frank ever grave detail of every mission I've been on. "You ex military, too?"

"No, I went the more…cloak and dagger route," I said. "But it was," I sighed, "very close to the military. A lot of it I can't talk about."

He nodded, thinking. "What'd you do?"

"I completed the missions people didn't come back from. The ones where if it went wrong, your country never knew you," I replied. He looked at me, like really looked at me. His stare was so intense it almost made me want to look away. He was thinking, like I could see the gears turning. Like…he couldn't wrap his head around it. Like, at any moment, it'd explode. Alison looked at me, clearly shocked. I guess she never knew that part.

"Like you," I continued, "I spent the better part of my life on missions, with a gun in my hand and someone always at my back. I lost friends, some out of revenge and others for no reason. Some I tried to save but lost anyway. I'd come home to-" I paused and sucked in a big breath, slowly letting it out as I continued, "-a brother, who always told me how proud he was that I was making the world a better place, and would tell me that things would get better, when I needed to hear it."

I paused and picked at the grass, everyone hanging on my every word. I don't even think I've talked to Matt about this this much, in this grave a detail. "You know, you spend the whole time holding onto that thin line between home and the battlefield, between family and war." I looked at Frank. He returned the stare with a knowing look. "And then one day…the line that you spent so much time and risked everything to protect, vanishes. And then you can't tell the difference because the war's in your backyard."

"Who'd you lose?" Frank asked.

I met his eyes. "My brother. The only family I had." I sighed, trying to hold it together. It's been so long since I've talked about this. "I had orders to stay on base, that I wasn't needed in the field. So, I stayed, like a good little soldier and it was the worst mistake I've ever made. And, believe me; I've made some pretty bad ones." I looked down. "He was long gone by the time I went out, against orders. They couldn't even use dental records to identify him. Leaving behind a pregnant wife."

"But after that, I was done. I had seen and done the worst of life. I thought I was going crazy…I needed to get out and leave. So, I came back here. Where no one knew my name and no one knew what I'd done or what happened. Where I might be able to forget. But I realized that's not possible, because it's a part of me, you know? What happened, won't go away." I readjusted my sitting position. "But, you'll be happy to know, I almost became you, or rather, I was you." He looked at me questioningly. "Until I met this wing nut." I pointed at Daredevil.

He looked serious. Too serious. Alison moved to sit down next to him. She looked…I don't know, newly informed? She didn't seem to know what to make of what I had said. Frank looked at Daredevil, then me. "He do his preacher boy speech on you, too?"

I smiled, slightly chuckling. "No," I looked up at Daredevil. He was looking at me. I looked at his eyes. "No, I told it to him." I slipped my mask off and then held it in my hands. Alison looked stunned. "Relax, Alison. He knows." She still didn't change her expression. I looked down at my mask. Then I heard Frank's voice, "And the scar?"

"That was a close call." I looked up at him. "I've never had the best of luck when it comes to ninja's." Frank looked at me, almost wondering if I was joking. I had a closed mouth smiled and raised my eyebrows. He looked away, a smile on his face. "What about you, Frrrrank? Hmm? The rhyme?"

He looked at me funny. "You heard that?"

"Just on the roof." I pointed at Daredevil. "He's heard it the rest of the times." He looked at Daredevil.

"I gotta say, sometimes…" Frank said, "sometimes I think you might just be the devil."

"Sometimes I think I might be, too," he replied, glancing my way. And I knew what he was referring too. All the times I've talked him off a metaphorical ledge. Frank looked around. "It's, uh…one batch, two batch. Penny and dime, you know," he said. "It was her favorite book. You know, you…you gotta cross the ocean…and go fight." He glanced at me and I nodded. "You see…whole time you're thinking you're gonna be scared, right? But then, you're not. See, that part was always easy for me." He looked at Alison. "Killing."

"Even watching my buddies die, it just…it didn't mean nothing. The first time I got scared…was on the plane on the way home. I kept thinking God was going to pull the rug out from under us, you know? That's his kind of funny, you know. But the plane landed safe and we were home. Driving through traffic. Yeah, you pass fast food and donut shops and all that…that greasy stuff. It's the stuff you fought to protect and then the car stops." He looked at me. "You know." I nodded.

He turned back, staring off somewhere. "We were outside her school. Get to her class room, right? She's in there…but she's got no idea. She's got no idea that Daddy's home. I walk in, these kids, they're not even studying, they're…doing some kind of yoga." He slightly chuckled. "She's there. She's doing her poses. She's bending and, you know, she's moving. She looks like a flower. And, you know, you can't even understand it, you know, how does something like that have…how does something that beautiful…how does that…does that come from me, you know?"

I knew where this story was going. I know that his family died. I'm just waiting for the crashing end. Alison stared at him intently, intrigued by what he was saying. But I could see the sadness creeping into her eyes. She also knows his family's gone. She probably knows how. But, being a mother, I'm sure she's relating to everything he's saying.

"And she looks up and she sees me," he continued. "I see her. By God, that's real. That's real, Red. In an instant, she's across that classroom floor, she's in my arms. She's squeezing me so tight, I swear I was gonna bust a rib, you know? We just stayed there like that, we're holding each other. Teacher, she's filming the whole thing with her phone, you know, she's gonna put it on YouTube or something. She can't hold the thing steady, because, you know, she's…she's bawling so hard, and the kids are all wailing, you know, they're screaming. And me? I'm the worst of all.

"I'm a…I'm a rubber faced clown, you know. I cried so hard. But not my baby. Not my girl. You know, she's my girl. She's…she's not crying, she's holding me up. My girl, she's keeping me on my feet." He was borderline tears, at this point. Trying to keep it together. I think the rest of us were too. Alison even whiped a tear from her eye. "She says, 'I knew it, Daddy. I knew it.' And then we go home. Wife, the boy. Place is the exact same. It's like it's just holding its breath waiting for me to get back, you know? Then it hit me. All of it, you know.

"The first time I felt how tired I was, you know, I was just…tired, you know?" He paused and looked around. "You…you two ever been tired?" The kind of tired he's talking about? Oh, yes. A lot. Too much, I'm sure. Daredevil nodded slightly, "Yeah." I didn't need to reply. Something told me Frank already knew.

"So, you know," he said. "It's just, I couldn't do nothing, you know? All the things…I couldn't take my wife to bed. Ball with the boy. I was too tired I couldn't even drink a beer, you know? But not her. My girl was up. See, she wanted me to, uh…she wanted me to tuck her in. She…she out grew it, she knew it, she didn't care. She wanted it. She had that book. Her favorite book was out on the pillows. One Batch, Two Batch…Penny and Dime." He was getting more choked up, and I knew what was coming. I'm the queen of regrets.

"I read her that book every night before this stuff. I read it every single night but, see, that was over now because Daddy's home now. She looked at me and she begged me. She begged. She begged," he thought. "I said, 'No. Daddy's too tired, see. But I'll…I'll read it to you tomorrow night'." I sighed and looked away. "'I'll read it to you tomorrow night, I promise.' Yeah. Never think that…for her there was not gonna be any tomorrow, see. The last time I'd see her, I'd be holding her lifeless body in my arms."

I sighed quietly, trying to real things in. It wasn't working too well. The smallest drop escaped my right eye. This was all reminding me too much of Andy. I looked up at him, at Alison. She was a mess. The water works going. She's probably picturing how'd she'd feel if that were Chase. "Meat was spilling out of her," he went on, trapped in the memory. "The place where her face used to be. Yeah. I think I'm done."

I knew what he meant by 'done'. I've felt the same way. "I think I'm done," he repeated. Then he looked at Alison. "I'm sorry I got you into this. That should've never happened." He was starting to slow down, looking along the lines of passing out. He's lost a lot of blood. Alison looked at him, wide eyed yet suspicious at the same time.

"What are you saying?" she inched closer as sirens filled the air. I put my mask back on and stood. Daredevil stood, too, standing next to me. Alison sounded desperate. She's gotten too close. She had to know this might happen. That one day he might off himself, or rather, someone else would do it. But it sounds like he's given up. And now I know why.

"You need to go, Aly." He looked at her. "And thanks for the coffee." The police car pulled up, the doors swinging open. She stared at him, mouth open, tears brimming her eyes. She didn't know what to say. Or if she did, she was choosing not to. She looked slightly in disbelief.

"Police," I recognized Mahoney's voice. Like, he's the only cop in town. Why's he always the one who shows up? "Don't move." Too late. I'm moving. I walked the two steps to Alison and grabbed her shoulders. "Come on," I said softly as I guided her to her feet. I pulled her over with Daredevil. The two cops were walking toward us, guns drawn.

"Hands where I can see 'em," Mahoney said. I rolled my eyes and then we raised our hands. "Shots fired. Bodies, mayhem, and stuff. How come I knew it just had to be you two?"

"I have something for you, Sergeant," Daredevil said.

"That's him?" he looked around us. "Cover him and get EMS." The other officer moved quickly to do as told. "And you, you're an incredible pain in my butt." He walked up to Daredevil. "You're under arrest." He turned him around, pushing on his knees, and pulling out his cuffs.

I scoffed. "That's not fair, he gets arrested and I don't?" I mocked.

Mahoney looked at me. "Oh, you're next." He went back to what he was doing. "I just know you'll go quietly."

"Thank you? I'm…not sure if that's a compliment…?" I looked at Alison for a response, but she was no help. She had her arms crossed, staring past me at Frank. She still had tears coming out, a concerned look. I nudged her shoulder. Her eyes lightly flicked my way, then went back. I nudged her again. She didn't do anything this time. So I nudged her again. This time, she swatted at my hand and then glared at me with daggers.

My eyes widened as big as they could as I sucked my head back, recoiling. "What?" she snapped. I held the stare a minute. Then I snapped out of it and went back to normal, relaxing. I softened my expression. "He's going to be okay," I said softly. She softened, too, looking on the verge of a break down.

"EMT and back up on the way," the one cop yelled. "Two minutes out."

"See?" I looked at Alison. Suddenly Daredevil was standing and he didn't have cuffs on. "Okay, what…?"

"Go," Mahoney said. "Go!" Daredevil grabbed my arm and pulled me with him. "I don't know what you are," Mahoney called. "But I know you ain't him."


	15. Twenty Pounds in Rain

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"Frank Castle, the gunman wanted in connection with the Metro-General shooting and linked to dozens of recent gangland-related killings throughout Hell's Kitchen was just apprehended just hours ago outside Saint Michael's Cemetery," the news anchor said. "An NYPD spokesman says, 'Tonight, New York has Sergeant Brett Mahoney of the 15th precinct to thank'."

"Gotta hand it to Brett," Foggy said. We were all at Josie's, meeting up as planned. I called Mary earlier and explained what happened. She's now off the hook, but has to watch Chase. No one's seen Alison since Matt and I left her at the cemetery. She's probably at the hospital.

"I'm glad people like him are looking out for Hell's Kitchen," Matt said. I rolled my eyes and took a drink of my beer. He'd told Mahoney at the cemetery to say it was him who'd captured 'The Punisher'. Something about the city needed to believe in its police. I get it. Plus, it got us out of being arrested. Bonus. I already did that once, this week.

"Yeah," Foggy agreed. "And I'm glad someone was looking out for him." He looked at us. Wow, Foggy. MAKE UP YOUR MIND. Gosh, he's such a girl! One second he hates that Matt does this, and then the next he's supporting him. Come on, Foggy! I just nodded and went back to my beer. Better to drink than say what's on my mind, right now. That should be on a t-shirt. I'd totally wear it.

"Press are calling Castle 'a cold-blooded psychopath'," Karen said. Her back was turned to us, staring at the TV. "The DA's gonna have a hard time using his prosecution to turn herself into a hero." She reached behind her and grabbed her beer. "It's all working out perfectly."

"Wow, way to bring us down," Matt said.

"I'm…" Karen chuckled, turning around to face us.

"Hey, Josie, would you mind turning the TV off? It's upsetting some of the regulars," Matt teased. "I think we've had enough Punisher for one evening."

"Yeah," I said, "and not enough beer." The others laughed. They think I'm joking. That's sweet.

"I'll drink to that," Karen said, as they raised their beers. I followed suit.

"To Brett," Matt said, "and…a safe Hell's Kitchen."

"Here, here," everyone said, clunking glasses. Then we all got down to business and drank.

"I'm gonna get us another round," Foggy said.

"About time," I smiled. He looked at me and smiled back. He's only in a good mood 'cause Frank's butt is in jail. Give it a day and he'll be mad at me again, for something stupid. "I hope you three saved room for shots," he said.

"Oh, no," Karen smiled. I laughed.

"Thanks, Fog," Matt called as he left. I sighed and leaned back into my chair. I took another drink as I felt Matt's hand wrap around mine under the table. I looked at him, setting my drink down. He smiled at me. "What?" I said through a smile. His smile grew and he chuckled. "Nothing," he shook his head.

"Right." I picked up my beer and took a drink, still seeing him looking at me out of the corner of my eye. I set it down and then turn toward him in my chair, rather abruptly. "Just kiss me already, will you?" I said it sternly, in joking annoyance. He smiled, not wasting any time. He leaned over and I met him half way, our lips connecting. I'm sure he's been waiting to do this for a while now. I know I have.

We drew it out, like always. But this time, we were in public. Matt and Dani. Not Daredevil and Angel. We were normal, in a normal setting, wearing normal clothes. No one's trying to kill us, no one's been kidnapped. It's just us. And that's all we need. We've kissed in public before, but never like this. Because we didn't care.

Glass slamming against the table and a disgruntled Foggy broke our kiss. "Come on!" he complained. I smiled sitting back, Matt doing the same. He turned to Foggy, "Yes, Foggy?"

"Can't you do that in private, do you have to do it now?" We all laughed. I knew Foggy was joking. He's happy that Matt has someone. So am I. Karen looked at us in a secretive way, "He's just jealous."

"Oh-ho!" I scoffed. "You know it!" I put up my hand. Karen quickly reacted, high-fiving me.

Foggy rolled his eyes, "Alright, let's not…rub it in." We sat back and laughed. Then Foggy dealt out shots. Two each. "Yo!" I said, pointing at the shots. "What up with the?" I asked, pronouncing the 'the' with the long E sound. "I'd like to be able to walk home, thank you very much."

"Don't worry," Matt said, looking at me, "I'll carry you."

"Oh!" Karen and Foggy said.

"Well, in that case-" I slid both shots in front of me, downing one. Everyone laughed. Man, I can't remember when I've had this much fun at a bar. Like, seriously. I feel so…at ease. At home. It's weird. Or…I suppose that could be the alcohol. "Alright!" Foggy said before downing his first shot. The others quickly followed.

I leaned over and kissed Matt on the cheek before whispering, "You're insane."

He smiled and then said, "I know." I sat back, downing the second shot. We hung out for about another hour, talking and drinking. Though I did more talking. I milked out my next beer for the rest of the night. I meant it when I said about walking home.

Karen and I split the bill. I was going to pay for it all but she insisted, so…what are you gonna do? We paid while the boys went outside. "This has been a lot of fun," Karen said, on our way to the door. I slid my wallet in my back pocket, looking at her. "Yeah, it was great," I agreed.

"Too bad Alison didn't come. She really missed out."

"Yeah, she had…work stuff, I think." I shrugged it off. She nodded as we walked outside. We all gathered under the awning. It was an unholy down pour. We'd clearly walked out into the middle of a conversation. "Godspeed, Matt Murdock," Foggy said.

"Hey, where next?" Karen asked.

"Home," Foggy said. "I'm gonna sleep for a week. Someone had the awful idea of doing shots." We all laughed. "I think I've had enough excitement for one evening. See you two in the morning," he said looking at Karen and Matt. "Later, Dani." He pulled a news paper out of his bag and unfolded it, putting it above his head before running out into the rain.

"See ya, Fog," Matt said as he passed by. I sighed and looked at the others. "Well," Karen said. "I'm gonna head home, too." She waved and the stepped out into the rain.

"Bye, Karen."

"See ya," I said. She quickly vanished. "And then there were two." Matt smiled and looked at me. "So, your place or mine? Or should we part ways?"

"Oh," he scoffed, "definitely not parting," he joked. I smiled and chuckled. "You've got company at yours." I thought for a second, about Mary, Lizzie, and Chase in my house. Chase is probably on my bed playing video games, getting cheese ball grease all over everything; the sheets, the controllers, the light switch, the handle on the toilet. I'll have to bomb the place before I can return. And, all of this is happening while Mary's sleeping.

"Right," I said. "Then your place. Cab or walk?"

"Do you mind the rain?"

I scoffed. "I spent five years in Western Oregon. So…no, I don't." He laughed and then took my hand. We stepped out into the down pour and then walked home. Or, to his home. Same thing, these days. By the time we got there, we were soaked to the bone. Like we just went swimming in our clothes. Matt unlocked the door and then pushed it open, motioning me in.

I walked past him and into the dark apartment. But I know my way around it now, so I usually leave the lights off. Thanks to this guy, I've gotten pretty good at seeing in the dark. He walked in behind me and closed the door. He sat his folded walking stick on the table next to the door, followed by his glasses.

I crossed my arms. "You might want to turn the heat up." He smiled. "In case you haven't noticed…we're wet." He laughed.

"Yeah, I know." We walked slowly down the hall toward the main room. "Getting into something dry will help." We reached the end of the hall when I turned around and looked at him.

"Yeah, I'd have to ring out my clothes for an hour. I just gained twenty pounds in rain," I joked, leaning into the wall, with the dining room to my right and the hall to my left. Matt reached up and brushed the side of my face, on my scar. He does that a lot. I think it's to remind himself of what happened, since he can't see it all the time, like the others can. But his hand lingered, his thumb brushing my cheek.

"You'd have to get out of them off, first," he said. A smile crossed my lips as he leaned in and kissed me. I draped my arms cross his shoulders, crossing them lightly behind his head. He pushed in, kissing me deeper and harder. I wasn't thinking of anything but right here, right now. In this moment. Everything- all my worries, regrets, life…it all vanished. And it felt so good.

Suddenly, he stopped and whipped around, alert and on edge. I couldn't figure out why for, until I looked up. A woman sat in the living room. She stared at us, her legs crossed, a cocky look on her face. "Hello, Matthew," she said. Matt and I were slightly breathing heavily from our previous activities. But, Matt looked annoyed. He only said one word, "Elektra."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sipped gingerly on the warm coffee from the cafeteria. The nurses had suggested that I eat something, but this was all I could stomach. They tried coaxing me into something more substantial several times. But I turned them down. No way could I stomach it. My hands were still shaking from last night. They hadn't stopped. And it wasn't like I slept at all, either. Not for forty-eight hours straight.

I just couldn't—not with Frank a couple doors down, being treated. They wouldn't let me in. Guards were posted at the door to keep the undesirables out, and I guess I fell under that category. That, and I was a witness and a victim of what went down to bring us in here. I readjusted my position in the stiff waiting room chair so that I could have a better view of the hallway, resting my cheek against my knuckles. Everything in me ached.

The nurse gave me some pain meds for that a while ago but it only took the edge off. There was still a dull throbbing in the back of my head. Footsteps caused me to lurch slightly, my eyes darting up. Mahoney sighed heavily as he walked over to me from down the hall. "You need to go home, Fletcher," he said, tiredly. He stopped a couple feet from my chair and I gave a shake of my head.

"I'm not leaving," I refused. "Has he woken up yet?"

"You need to go home to your boy—get some rest," he urged, causing me to sigh, almost rolling my eyes. "After what you've been through, I think it would be the best thing for you. I'm sure friends are worried are about you. Shoot, I'm worried about you."

I looked up at him. "Thank you for the concern, Mahoney. But I'm staying."

"Go home," he repeated, firmly. He gave me a serious look before turning and disappearing down the hallway. I groaned a little and raked my hand through my hair. It was already tussled and practically a mess—why not just make it worse? I don't care how many times Mahoney tries to get me to go home. As long as Frank is here, I will be still sitting right in this chair.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"Oh, please, don't stop on my account," she said. "Things were just starting to get interesting." I scoffed and crossed my arms. I'd like to know who this woman is and what she's doing breaking into Matt's apartment. Matt looked just as shocked. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"You've never been hard to find."

"That's not what I asked." He took a few steps closer. She looked around the room, almost pleased with herself. She acted like she owned the place. "At least your furniture's improved," she said. Is she for real?

"Kind of liked my old futon," Matt said.

"I liked breaking it in," she teased, standing. And there it is. I closed my eyes and sighed. She's his ex. Now this makes perfect sense. "Nice place. Too bad about the clothes, though." Or what, that they're on him? This is the last thing I need right now. Maybe I should've had a few more shots. She then went to the couch, sitting on it, resting her arm on the back. She looked me up and down, intrigued. "And _who_ are _you?_ " She said it like I was some new discovery she's made.

Matt looked at me apologetically. "Dani Dylan," I said gruffly.

"Oh, I like it. Has a nice ring. Now, is that short for Danielle or Daniela?"

"Why does it matter?" I said dully, shrugging.

"Mmm. Feisty."

"You have no idea."

"Why are you here?" Matt asked.

"Would you believe me if I said I missed you?"

"No."

"Smart man," she said. "Columbia education really paid off."

"No thanks to you," Matt said. She laughed. Okay, so now I know where they met. Ten years ago. The same time I met Foggy. No wonder I never ran into Matt when I was with Foggy. "I'm in New York for a meeting," she said. "I thought I'd pop by."

"Well, you're not staying here, so…"

"Well, I can see that. You have other company." She stood and walked past the couch toward us. "My penthouse in midtown will just have to do." She stopped five feet in front of us. "We spent some nights there." I rolled my eyes. Trying to remind your ex of old times while he's dating someone else, and she's right in front of you, is just downright mean.

"Look, if you came here to walk down memory lane, I don't really have the-"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted.

I looked around. "Okay," I sighed, wedging my thumbs into my back pockets. "I can just wait outside-"

"No," Matt said turning toward me. "Stay." He grabbed my hand and held it tight. Elektra saw the whole thing. She looked at our hands together with almost pure jealousy. Then she continued. "I've spent years trying to convince myself that things happen for a reason, that you and I were not meant to be. But I know now. That was not fate. That was a choice. My choice. And I'm sorry."

I glanced up at Matt. His expression was hard to read. But he was definitely shocked, caught off guard. "You know what it's like to clean up your father's messes," she said. Yeah, I think I wrote the book on that one. "A long time ago, before he died, my father did business with the Roxxon Corporation."

"Roxxon?" Matt asked.

"Energy, cleaning supplies, macaroni and cheese. Child labor, slave trade. They have their fingers in everything," she scoffed.

"Tell me about it," I commented. And I immediately wished I hadn't. She looked at me, ready to pounce on new prey. "Oh. So you've heard of them?" she asked genuinely. I glanced up at Matt, who didn't seem to have a clue. "Yeah," I said. "I've done more than just hear about them. They've hosed over me and my friends on numerous occasions. Their former owner, Hugh Jones, was arrested several times but never convicted of anything he did. They have four subsidiaries which are all just as terrible." I stopped, realizing I was probably saying too much.

"Well, you _are_ more than just a pretty face," she commented. "Had to be, with that scar-"

"Okay, Elektra," Matt snapped. "What about it?"

"Thanks to my father's investments, they hold most of his wealth."

"Yeah, okay," he motioned her to get to the point.

"I have a meeting tomorrow with the board at the Yakatomi Building. And I need your help, Matthew."

"How am I supposed to help you?"

"I want you to use that expensive legal training of yours to help me get my money back," she said.

I scoffed. "No offence, Matt." I turned to Elektra. "But, there's no way you are ever getting that money back." She looked at me funny. "If I were you, I'd write off the money and wash my hands of it. It's not worth your life."

She scoffed, glancing around before landing on me. "What is it you do?"

"A lot more than we have time for."

"Elektra," Matt said. "I'm a defense lawyer."

"I'll pay you well," she shot back, not missing a beat.

"I'm not taking your money. And, even if I accepted, there's not enough time."

"For what?"

"Oh, just research. Accounts, shareholders, hierarchy of the-"

"Then take her," she said, pointing at me.

"Yeah, that's going to take more money than you could ever possibly have, to get me in one of their buildings," I said.

She looked at Matt. "You have fifteen hours."

"Fifteen hours, Elektra, are you insane?" Matt asked.

"Matthew. You're the only person I can trust."

"Well, sweetheart, you don't break into my house and then talk to me about trust."

"Don't over think it. It's just a bunch of guys in business suits. They won't know what hit them. Would be fun, like old times."

"Oh, you and I, we have very different ideas of fun," he said seriously.

"You can say whatever you want. But I know you-"

"No, you don't. You don't, not anymore. Not…ever again."

"Well…that's disappointing." And she looked it. Like someone just pushed her down on the playground. Good. I'm sure she deserves it. I let go of Matt's hand, crossing my arms. I'm still soaking wet and it's freezing in here. Matt nodded toward the door, "Get out." She recoiled, looking hurt. Without a word, she left. I heard the door close a few seconds later. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's freezing in here."

"No, I…" he turned toward me. "Are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"I'm sorry-"

"No, really. It's fine, Matt. I know a thing or two about crazy ex's, remember? I'm a PI…it's kind of my jam." He had his hands on his hips. He smiled slightly, deep in thought. He dropped his arms and then walked up to me and hugged me. I kept my arms crossed in front of me, leaning into him and resting my head on his shoulder.


	16. Ten Years Earlier

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

 **TEN YEARS EARLIER…**

"Dani?" Foggy waved his hand in front of my face. I shook my head and blinked. He smiled, laughing. "Wow, Dylan. You really zoned out there. To where did your mind wonder?" I smiled, playing along. Yeah, I slightly tuned him out. He makes it too easy. But I'm not used to that name, yet. Even though he's said it a thousand times.

"Nowhere important," I shrugged. "I've got a lot to do today. I should get going."

"You got a ride?"

"Yeah, my brother's picking me up."

"Ah," he sighed. "The brother I've never met." I smiled. "What was his name, again?" Yeah, which one? I'm still trying to wrap my head around this whole half-brother thing. Since I was born, it's just been me and my twin brother. To throw another person into that…it's just weird. "Um, Andrew," I said.

"Andy and Dani?" he asked skeptically. "And you two are twins?" He laughed. I smiled, chuckling. I know it sounds weird. It's supposed to be Elizabeth and Andrew. Unfortunate circumstances won't allow that. But, I am _not_ changing it again. I've had enough names to last me a few life times. My new name is my middle name, because I wanted it to mean something.

"Okay," I sighed, moving toward the door. "I have to go now."

"Fine," he said, in mock disappointment. He got up and came over, giving me a quick hug. "Alright, well," I said. "You better hit those books if you ever plan on being a lawyer." He sighed, exhausted. I patted him on the back. "Hang in there, buddy." I opened the door and stepped out.

"See ya later, Dani," he said before closing the door. I stared at the closed door, my chest starting to tighten. _Just remember, it's for the better_. I nodded and then walked away. I headed down the hall, reminding myself that that's the last time I'll see him. Ugh. Maybe I should've told him I was leaving. But if I did that, he'd have questions I don't have answers to.

I stopped and turned back toward the room in indecision. I'll probably hate myself for this. I turned and left. This has been the worst week of my life. My mother died, I have a half brother (who's only twelve), Dad showed up wanting more money, and we lost the house because of a lean he put on it and didn't pay back. Shocker.

Moving is the last thing I want to do. But between us, Andy and I only have two hundred dollars. That's how much our wonderful father left us with. Barely enough to get out of the state, out of Hell's Kitchen. I don't know why we came back. Andy's insisting we leave, and I agree. We need to go somewhere our father can't find us. If that's possible. My head is filled with too many thoughts. My heart has felt too many feelings. I can't decide which to land on. I want to hit someone and then I want to cry till I die. I'm such a woman, I hate it.

I shoved the front door open in my frustration, meeting resistance halfway and it slammed into something. I peeked around the door and saw a person stumbling back. "Oh, my goodness!" I stepped out of the building to look at the guy. "Are you okay?" He adjusted his glasses as I looked down and saw the walking stick on the ground.

Ugh. I'm an idiot. I just plowed into a blind guy. See? Worst week of my life. I quickly bent down and picked it up. "I am so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going." I stood.

"Now, I'm supposed to say that," he joked. But I really had to study his face to see if that was true. "It's alright. No harm done."

"Oh. Uh, here you go." I held out the stick. He reached his hand out and I put it in it.

"Thank you."

"Please," I sighed. "I just tackled you with a glass door. Are you sure you're okay?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you new here?"

"No. Um…last year I was enrolled," I sighed and then shrugged it off. "But, that clearly wasn't the right path. And, I had a lot of family stuff going on…still do." I sighed and glanced around. I suddenly felt like the whole world was crashing down on me.

"Are _you_ okay?" he sounded concerned, like he could see the look on my face.

I shrugged. "Not today."

"Would you like to…get some coffee," he suggested, "and talk about it?" I opened my mouth to reply, when a car horn blasted, followed by, "Come on, Ellie!" I sighed, ignoring him. I kept my eyes on the blind guy. "Thanks, uh," I said. "Maybe one day." The horn blared again. I turned toward the car at the curb, "I'm coming!"

I turned back to the guy. "Gosh!" I sighed. "Sorry, I, uh, need to go." I slowly started backing up. "I'm really sorry, again, about running into you."

"Anytime," he smiled.

"I'll remember that," I nodded. "Bye."

"Goodbye."

I turned and walked down to the car. I flung open the door and jumped into the passenger seat. I shut it and then glared at Andy. He was staring straight forward, wrist propped up on the wheel. After a few seconds he looked at me. "What?" He threw his whole body into the question, looking like he has no idea what the look's for.

"You couldn't have just waited?"

"No," he said it like it was a stupid question. "We're on a schedule, here. You came up with it, remember? Get out of town before those debt collectors come back. That's the plan."

"Yeah, I know." I sighed and sat back in the seat, looking straight forward and crossing my arms. I glanced out the window. The blind guy was still standing there. "Look," Andy said. "I know this isn't ideal. But it's our best chance." I sighed and then looked back at him. "I know," I said. "Just drive. I need to be in North Dakota in three days."

He smiled and then kissed me on the forehead. "It'll get better," he said, starting the car. Hopefully. But that's what he said the last time we moved. Oh, well. At least we'll be taken care of. We'd been hearing rumors of the government group for years, never thought anything of it. But, right now, it's our only chance. They call themselves S.H.I.E.L.D. And we start training on Monday.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

 **PRESENT…**

I readjusted my position in the chair. My right shoulder leaned into the back of the chair I sat in, while my legs were draped over the arm rest of this chair and the chair beside it. Not moving much in so many hours hasn't exactly been good to me. But I couldn't move even if I wanted to. My stomach still hadn't settled since yesterday. My eyes were tired, trying to force me to sleep, but I peeled them open. I'm not dozing off.

"Alison." I twisted to see behind me. Mary was walking toward me from the elevators with a paper bag, Chase walking right beside her. He was practically running when he saw me. "MOM!" he called, urgently. I pulled myself from the chair and stood, then knelt to be on his level. I opened my arms and he ran right into them, slamming into my chest. He held onto me tightly. "Hey," I wound my arms around him. "I'm okay. Are _you_ okay?"

He pulled back and nodded. I nodded back, swallowing down an urge to tear up. Chase paused, his eyes scanning my face. "What _happened_ to you?" he asked, sounding almost mortified. Bruises blistered the left side of my jaw. I know because I saw them in the mirror when I first got here many hours ago. I can't even imagine what they looked like now. "Some bad guys did some bad stuff," I answered, unsure of how to phrase it.

I looked up at Mary. She held up the paper bag, "I brought breakfast. Not sure if you're hungry, but you need to eat." I stood and wrapped my arms around her in a hug. She easily returned the gesture. "How are you?" she asked, stepping back.

I shook my head with a sigh. "I don't know," I wound my arms around myself. "Not good."

"How's Frank?" she asked, looking sympathetic.

"I don't know that either. They won't talk to me, they won't let me in-" I stopped myself and exhaled, trying to stay calm. Mary put a hand on my shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I walked into the law firm, a baby on my shoulder, and right into an argument. As usual. I sighed, closing the door. "And illegal," Foggy said, peeking my interest.

Karen sighed. "Yeah," she said. "It's all that. All of that. And I don't need a lecture or I will take those coffees back, okay?" I froze, looking at them. What is going on?

I dropped the dipper bag on the chair next to the door. Slowly moving their way. Foggy just sipped his coffee. "Thank you," Karen said to him. "Look, it's not just about the press. The DA's office released their statement and it's full of holes, too." I walked closer enough to see the picture on the desk. Frank with his wife and kids. I wonder where she found that.

"Something big is going on here, guys, and it all circles back to Frank Castle."

"Oh, no, no, no, no."

"Foggy-"

"No, come on, we successfully dodged a metaphorical bullet and quite a few literal ones. We need to be done with the crazy, guys," he said. He started to walk into his office. "We need normal." And then he disappeared. Karen looked disappointed and Matt was quiet. I set Lizzie down and straightened. She stood next to me, two fists full of my jean pant leg. She looked so cute, today. She was wearing a fuchsia tank top that fanned out into a jean skirt.

She wore matching sandals and a headband. I kept my hand hovering near her little blonde head. Just in case. Karen looked at me in defeat. "Hi, Dani," she said softly.

"Hey," I said, a sympathetic smile. Matt turned and looked at me like this was the first he noticed me. "Hey," he said and walked up to me.

"Yeah, sorry I left early this morning," I said a little lower. "Mary needed me to get Lizzie, and it wasn't very practical to write a note," I joked. "I didn't want to wake you."

"No, no, it's fine," he said. "Did you get everything straightened out?" I nodded a second before hearing Foggy cuss from the next room. I wide eyed looked that way as he came out of the room, holding his phone. "That was the bank," he said.

"Oh, no," Karen said.

"No, it's…all good. There was a deposit. A big one."

"What?" Matt said, flabbergasted. "Um, yeah. Yeah, uh, do me a favor, don't spend any of it."

"Why not?"

Matt shook his head. "I was hit up by a potential client yesterday, so, I just-" he stopped talking and took a few steps to the door.

"Is it dirty money?" Foggy asked. "Are we doing that again?"

"No! No, it's nothing like that. It's just, um…I'm not sure it's gonna work out, let me…let me get into it, I'll- I'll be back." He quickly got his stick and left. Leaving us puzzled. Or, at least, Karen and Foggy. A 'potential client yesterday'. Yeah. I know who that is. The woman doesn't give up, I'll give her that.

"That was weird," Foggy said, turning to us. He looked down and saw Lizzie. "Oh, my," he crouched down to her level. "She's so big!" he looked up at me. "Can she walk, yet?"

"Not quite. Still working on it," I said. "So…why am I here, Nelson?"

He stood. "To help her." He pointed at Karen and then left. I turned to her. "Yes?" I said, afraid of what she might say.

"I think," she started, "that there is more to this Punisher case, and you're the only one who seems to take me seriously."

"Depends. What did you do that made them mad?"

"I…uh, I broke into his house," she said. My mouth fell open. Well that explains it.

"I said I'd take care of it," I said. "You said you'd give me a chance to find something before you stuck your neck out."

"I know-"

"Then why didn't you?"

She tensed up, not liking being grilled. "I don't know."

"Well, next time you need to follow orders. You could've gotten hurt doing that. Let alone going to jail for breaking and entering."

"Funny. You sound like a soldier. I need to 'follow my orders'."

"Yeah, so?" I asked. She just shook her head and walked away. She went back to the desk and sat down. A couple hours later and I was ready to call it a day. I packed up the few things I'd pulled out of the dipper bag. Matt hasn't been answering my calls, so I guess I'll just head to the café. I stood to leave as the door opened.

A dark skinned man in a suit walked in. Karen stood at her desk. "Mr. Tower," she said. "Uh, I wish you'd called. I'd have set something up." He walked straight to her, barely glancing at me.

"Are they in?" he asked.

"Just the Nelson half," Foggy said as he appeared. "What's the problem?"

"We need to talk. In private." Foggy nodded and then lead the guy into his office. Karen looked like a kicked puppy. Really? Come on. You're not a lawyer. I sighed and then left the law firm.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My shoe tapped the tile violently. No one had passed by my chair in over two hours. Don't even try to ask me what that meant, but my brain was telling me it was nothing good. The anxiety in my chest was about to crush me. Suddenly the elevator dinged. I sat up a little and looked down the hallway. Karen was coming. Great. She pulled her bag higher up on her shoulder as she reached the waiting area. I looked up at her.

"Hey. Dani said I'd find you here," she said, her tone gentle. "How are you holding up?" She took a seat in the chair beside mine and I inwardly groaned. Karen was one of the last people I wanted to talk to right now. But she was here, asking me questions. Figures. "Pitifully," I answered, shortly.

"Um, I wanted to ask you something. I've been trying to look into what happened to Frank but I'm hitting a lot of brick walls. I was thinking maybe there would be something in the back issues at the Bulletin?" It wasn't really a question, just curious. I raised an eyebrow at her as she continued. "I want to help, Alison. I know…I know we haven't gotten along in the past. But I really want to help."

"Why? What do you get out of it?" I asked, too agitated already to show any mercy.

"His family deserves justice—and so does he. No jury is ever going to let him off the hook unless we prove that," she pointed out, ignoring my second question. She reached a hand into her purse and started digging around. "I found something you might want to see." Her hand reemerged a moment later with a picture frame. She held it out to me and I hesitantly took it. Once I had it in my hands, I couldn't stop looking at it.

Inside the frame was a photo of Frank, his wife, and two kids on the carousel, all smiling at the camera. Frank looked so normal back then. My stomach lurched as my heart shot into my throat. I looked up at Karen, water starting to blur my vision at the edges. "Where did you get this?" I questioned.

She suddenly looked guilty. "I…well, I sort of broke into his house."

"You did _what_?" Both of my eyebrows shot up.

"I know, it was probably stupid. But we need to be looking into this. If Frank is in custody, that means he's going to be tried for what he's done," she explained. "And, if we have no proof that he had a reason for what he did, you can kiss seeing him ever again goodbye." My eyes moved back down to the picture in the frame. Karen was quiet for a moment, probably trying to load her gun with more ammo to shoot at me.

She inhaled and I inwardly braced myself. "You care about him, don't you? You love him?" I instantly looked back up at Karen, blinking hard. A tear made its way down my cheek and I swiped at it. "I don't know," I shook my head, lying.

"Come on, Alison, don't give me that," she shook her head right back at me. "It's written all over your face."

I sighed heavily, annoyed. "Why do you _care_ , Karen?"

"Because, I…I feel guilty about what happened to Ben. I know it's mostly my fault. I pushed him into it and you warned me and I-" she stopped herself, taking a deep breath. She righted herself and looked me in the eyes. "I want to help you. It's the least I can do after the pain I've caused you. Let me help, please."

I looked back down at the photo. If you didn't really know him that well, you wouldn't even see that was Frank, in this setting. Without bruises, cuts, bullet holes, that ratty jacket, and blood covering every inch of him he was almost completely unrecognizable. If I wanted to help Karen get into the Bulletin, I would need to leave the hospital. But it's worth it, isn't it? I sighed and looked back up at her with a short nod. "Fine," I agreed.

She nodded. "Great. Let's go."

She had to practically peel me off the chair. And I stood at the exit for about five minutes debating whether or not I should actually leave with her. Eventually she re convinced me to go and we took her car to the Bulletin. I lead most of the way through the building and up to the right floor. As soon as we stepped in through the door to the offices, I regretted coming. I left this forsaken place for a reason.

Ellison whizzed by, not even noticing us he was so busy. He went up to someone and started talking about some story. I sighed heavily. "Just remember, we're here for a reason," Karen reminded. I nodded and walked up to Ellison. "Excuse me?" I said.

"I'm a little busy here," he turned and glanced at us, then turned back to the guy he was talking. But then he did a double take and looked back at me. "Alison? What are you doing here? And what on this earth happened to your face?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. "That's not important. I need a favor. My friend, Karen, wants to ask you about the Frank Castle article."

"I know, terrifying," he sighed, as if he'd heard it before.

Karen piped up, "It's also highly inaccurate."

Ellison gave her a look. "That article was corroborated by multiple sources," he started walking but Karen followed him, urging me to come with her. This time I actually did roll my eyes. I followed shortly behind her through the busy press room. "NYPD, DA's office, we even had some eye witnesses."

"Yes, everything that you reported is correct. It's what you haven't reported that bothers me," Karen replied, causing him to stop. "The article is inaccurate by omission." Ellison turned and looked at me in an _is she for real?_ kind of way. I nodded once and he sighed heavily. "Okay, come here, come here," he motioned for us to follow him as he started for the back corner of the office.

Karen practically dragged me with her. I was just about too tired to do it myself. She hushed her voice, looking at Ellison. "Right, did you know that two years ago Lieutenant Frank Castle was awarded the Navy Cross for his service in Afghanistan? That's second to only the Medal of Honor. This guy in a war hero," she explained.

"Military history is the first thing we search whenever there's a mass shooting," Ellison replied, arms crossed as he leaned back into the wall just behind him. "So, we know that he was a Marine recruit, and we know he went in as a kid, but there's no evidence that he actually served."

"I've seen his dog tags," I spoke up, confused.

"And I've seen the medal," Karen corroborated. "Engraved with his name, next to a photograph of him shaking the secretary's hand." Ellison looked around a second before turning back to us. He inhaled. "Are you suggesting that his work was classified?" he asked.

"I don't know, but- but I would assume."

"Don't assume," he admonished Karen. "Where'd you see this medal? And how did you find his dog tags?" Karen looked at me with a guilty expression. I folded my arms and took a deep breath. _Just cough it up, Alison_. Here we go. "The tags were around his neck-" I tilted my head toward Karen. "-and the medal was in his house."

Ellison opened his mouth to say something, probably more questions, when Karen spoke up first. "Not important. Look, your article also states that he had no known relatives, but every paper in New York says that."

"Well, that was in the press briefing issued by the DA's office," Ellison replied, trying to remain calm.

"He had a family," I corrected, semi-quietly. "A wife—Maria Elizabeth—a daughter—Lisa Barbara—and a son, Frank Junior."

He looked at me seriously. " _Had_?"

"All dead. Killed around the same time that Frank Castle was hospitalized for a gunshot wound to the head," Karen added.

"What, so…what, you're saying that he murdered his family and then shot himself? Some sort of PTSD murder-suicide attempt?" Ellison questioned, unbelieving.

Karen shook her head quickly. "No, see, if that's what had happened, the DA would've put it in her brief—in flashing neon if she could—because that supports her story that he's a psychopath."

"So…what do you two think really happened?" he asked, hesitantly. Like he wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer. Karen looked at me. It was a nudging look. She knew I probably knew so much more than what she was telling Ellison, having been closer to Frank than anyone else in this whole building combined. I inhaled. "They were gunned down during a shootout between the local gangs," I explained. "At the park."

"And- wait, how do we know this?" he turned more toward me.

"She's talked to him," Karen spilled, making my eyes go wide. What are you doing, Karen? Are you trying to get me thrown in jail? Ellison's eyes widened as well, shock spreading over his face. "She what?" he asked, rhetorically. He stared me down. "You talked to this guy? How did you get close enough without him blowing your brains out?"

I took a deep breath. "W-well, I…I have a son—he must've sympathized."

"Look, if we could just go through your back issues, maybe we could prove all this? And anything that we find, anything that we can prove-"

Ellison interrupted Karen, looking to her. "The Bulletin gets the exclusive," he finished.

"Deal," she nodded. He motioned for us to follow him as he started past me. I gave Karen a _what for?_ look and she sighed, following after Ellison. I knew I shouldn't have come here with here. She can never keep her trap shut. I groaned and followed not too far behind them to the back of the offices. I'd been in the store room before so I knew exactly where it was already.

Ellison pushed open the door. "All the servers were wiped in the incident. Decades, just…gone. So, um, we keep hard copies of everything now." He led the way to the back aisle in the room and stopped, looking at the shelves with his arms crossed. Karen fingered a few papers closest to her. "Sheesh…are they in any kind of order?" she asked.

"Nope," I sighed.

"I would start, uh, down here," Ellison said, pointing at the end of the aisle. Karen nodded and moved past both of us to start looking. Ellison started laughing as he made to leave. Karen and I shared a look. "What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He turned to see me, "Nothing. I'm just thinking, uh, somewhere…Ben Urich is looking down, and just…getting a real kick out of all this. Have fun." He disappeared out of the room and Karen sighed, grabbing a stack of newspapers off the shelf. A pang of nostalgia struck my chest. Yeah, Ben probably would've really liked this. He also would have forbid me to get into anything involving Frank Castle. Well, beggars can't be choosers.


	17. Like, Romantically

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We'd ordered take out and hid at Matt's. Mainly we were hiding from life in general, but I think we each had a different reason for wanting to pretend none of it existed. These days, his place was where we went when we needed to get away. My place would be fine. Normally. But with Chase always hanging around and Lizzie starting to talk and using furniture to stand, she needs constant watch. None of that screams romantic night.

And, for a little while there, we weren't getting to spend any time together without a kid present. So, Mary suggested a Date Night. A special night set aside for us. At first, I thought it was stupid. Then I found out that it worked. Of course, we always try to do it on a certain day of the week and end up doing it a day or two later, for whatever reason. But we still do it and that's what matters.

We had just finished diner and were sitting on the floor between the coffee table and couch. "So," I said, tossing a napkin on the table. "We need to talk."

"Oh. Should I be scared?" he joked. His arm was draped on the couch, wrapping behind me. "Don't know," I teased. "No, I wanted to…set the record straight. I think we probably both have some things we're not being completely honest about. And, I'm saying this because I know I'm guilty. I don't know about you. I'm not spying on you or anything."

He cocked his jaw to the side and froze. "Okay, I get it."

"I just…we said no secrets, and I'm trying very hard. But I was trained to keep secrets, okay? My life literally depended on it," I chuckled.

He looked serious. "I know," he nodded.

"And…about what I said to Frank at the cemetery…" I trailed off. I wasn't quite sure how to say it.

"No, it's okay. I understand why you would open up to him, like that. You both went through some of the same things. It seems only natural to me that you'd wanted to talk about it with him."

"Yeah, but I didn't even tell you."

"I'm sure, twenty years from now, there will still be things I don't know about you. But I know how hard all of that was, so I wasn't going to pry. I was waiting till you came to me with it."

I nodded, thinking. "I have two secrets that Alison's making me keep. One of which she'd kill me if I told you," I said. No pun intended on the kill part. He chuckled. "But, considering everything…it's fine if I share the other one." I sighed and glanced around. "As you know, Alison knows Frank from the café."

He nodded. "Right."

"But, what you don't know…is that she's involved with him," I looked at Matt. He didn't seem to get it. "Like, romantically." I said it cautiously. He clenched his jaw and I knew he was mad. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad."

"Yes, you are. You're doing that thing you do when you're mad."

"I'm not mad," he chuckled. "I'm just…concerned for her safety. What was she thinking? How long have you known?"

"Since the roof top. When she came to me." He clenched his jaw again. "But, you'll be happy to know that Mary knew longer than any of us."

"Why didn't she say anything?"

"Alison made her promise not to." I shrugged. "But it wouldn't have mattered. Mary's a hopeless romantic. She'd do anything to make sure the love birds ended up together in the end." I sighed and so did he. We both looked out into the room. I looked down and picked at the hem of my shirt. "I have one more thing I need to tell you." My voice had dropped, sounding serious. "It's about my conversation with Ben?"

"Your brother? Did you go to see him?"

"No, I mean last year." I looked up at him. He looked down at me, concerned. Our faces just inches apart. I remembered that night like it was happening right now. I could hear his voice echoing through the phone. See his face on the other side of the glass.

" _Why? Because I'm the little brother that could? Because I'm supposed to be better than my father? Oh…I'm better. Just not in the way you were hoping."_

" _My point is…you were never like this. I want to know, why did you change? Why do you hate me, to the point of relishing in my death?"_

" _Andy."_

I shook my head and then looked back at him. "He…well, he's many bad words, like, all of them. But he got in my head. I should never have gone there. I knew it was stupid and yet I did it anyway."

"What did he say?" Matt asked, very serious. He really wanted to know. It was almost like, depending on what I said, he might have to drive down to the prison and kick his butt. "He said that," I cleared my throat. "He said that Andy's death change us both for the worst. He was mocking me for joining S.H.I.E.L.D., for following out orders to kill."

" _You spent years turning a broken girl into a cold blooded killer…and Andy's death took that from you. It brought back the broken girl." He leaned forward, closer to the glass. "She needed a hero, so that's what she became," he mocked. He sat back. "Let's face the facts, Danielle. You became a hero to save yourself. You're the only one who needed an angel…and the only one who would fall in love with the devil. How ironic. You fall in love with the only man in New York completely against killing. How long will that last? Or, better yet-" he leaned in again. "-how long can you last?"_

"He said that Andy's death broke me to the point where _I_ needed a hero. And, that when there was none, I became one. He said I only became Angel to save myself," I said. "He's says that, when I was with S.H.I.E.L.D., I got used to killing, that I liked it. He thinks what we do is just enough…to tide me over. But that one day-" I paused and bowed my head. I sucked in a breath. "I'll _need_ to kill."

" _Admit it. You love the sound of flesh tearing, bones crushing, the smell of blood. How long has it been? I'll bet, this new gig you've got, is just enough to tide you over. Oh, but be careful…one day, it won't be enough. One day…you'll need your fix. I'm sure you've already thought about it." He sat back. "One day the Angel of Hell's Kitchen will become the devil. And there is nothing you can do to stop it. We are who we are."_

"He said that one day…The Angel of Hell's Kitchen will become the devil. He says I can't stop it from happening, that it's who I am. He said, 'You either die a hero or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain'. He said I've missed my chance to die a hero, and now it's my turn to become the villain." I sighed, trying not to let it get me again. "I don't know why I listened to him. But I did. That's why I came to you that day. The way I was. And I don't know why. I was trained for guys like him, how not to let them in your head."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" he spoke softly. I looked at him. He looked very saddened and sympathetic. Once again, concerned, like when this all happened.

I shook my head. "I don't know." That's a lie. "I guess…I say things, act a certain way." I turned toward him more. "I know that you're not a killer. And that's what I love about you. But I'm the exact opposite. I am a killer. If it weren't for Andy dying, I still would be. I get off on the thrill of the hunt, the metal in my hands, the smell of gun powder. The feeling I get when I've hit my target. That was my purpose in life, where it was always shoot first or die. And I became addicted to it. I just…" I looked at him.

He was intently listening. His expression hadn't changed. "I know…that one day, I'll slip up. One day I will take a life, whether it was on purpose or an accident."

Matt shook his head. "No. No, you won't."

"Why? I am literally almost a complete female version of Frank. We are _that_ close, Matt."

"I know."

"You do?" I was almost appalled. "If you know I'm like this-" I shook my head. "You've known I was like this from the start and you still fell in love with me. Why?"

"Because I know that you're _not_ Frank, that you're better than him! I can see in you the same thing Andy did; the need to save lives at the risk of your own. I can hear the broken pieces that you've tried to put back together in the wrong order, from your childhood, in your voice." He paused, lowering his voice. "And I can feel…that childhood and those risks on your skin." His hand brushed the scar on my face.

I closed my eyes and a tear fell out. I felt it land on my arm. "But, why?" my voice slightly quivered. He looked near tears himself, desperate to get me to understand. He huffed an uneven breath. "Because I love all of you…killer and all. When I say 'I love you', I'm not just talking about the good parts. I'm talking about _who_ you are."

More tears escaped me. "And…" I looked down and then back up. "If I kill again?"

He sighed, annoyed I keep bringing it up. "I'll still love you." I lunged at him and wrapped my arms around his neck. He quickly grabbed me, holding me in his lap. I squeezed him as tight as I could without chocking him. I tried not to cry, but a few stray tears managed to escape me. My plan was to hold him until I felt better. And I think that was he, too.

" _You missed your chance to die a hero. Now, it's your turn to become the villain."_

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I blew air through my nose in a slight huff, scribbling on my pad of paper. Mary said she could handle the Café today but I at least needed to make sure that the records were being kept right—seeing as we were _still_ out of a cash register. My whole body jolted, sending my eyes immediately up and right as I felt a nudge in my side. Mary looked apologetic. "Sorry. I just thought you should know-" she gestured over her shoulder with a hand. "-Matt's here with some woman."

My eyes narrowed slightly and I glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, Matt was sitting at the table by the front window with a lanky black haired woman sitting across from him. I inwardly groaned. Does Dani know he's here? Probably not. Should I say anything? I have no idea. But I'm gonna do it anyway. "What did they order?" I turned toward Mary fully.

She held up a plate. "A sandwich…or two."

"Great. I'll take this one." I took the plate before she could say _no_ and skirted around her, headed out for their table. I slid the plate on the table a second after arriving, interrupting whatever they were saying, and inhaled. "Here you go, can I get you anything else?" I directed my words more toward Matt, giving him a stern look. His jaw set as he looked up in my general direction. He sighed. "I thought you weren't working today?" he asked, rhetorically.

"I'm on my way out," I pointed toward the woman. "Who's she?"

"A new client-"

"Oh, you two know each other?" the woman asked, her voice in a mild sing-song of realization. I said _yes_ right as Matt said _no_ , and I glared at him after he added a nice _I've never seen her before_. The woman smiled, closed-mouthed in an almost smirking way, and held out a hand to me. "Elektra Natchios."

I hesitantly shook her hand, my eyebrows knitting together. "Alison Fletcher…I own the Café."

"Ah, well, it's a wonderful little setup you have here," she commented, turning to her food. I put a hand on my hip and looked at Matt. The expression on his face screamed guilt. Like I'd just overturned the forbidden rock. "Thanks," I said, over my shoulder. I kept my eyes on Matt. You could almost see him squirming a little in his seat. "I assume we _won't_ talk about this later?"

He looked down and I sighed heavily. I turned and headed back to the counter. Mary was instantly at my side. "Well? Who is she?" she questioned, curiously. I pulled on my coat on an exhale and turned more toward her. I shook my head. "Someone named _Elektra_ ," I huffed, pulling my hair out from beneath my collar. Mary's face scrunched up weirdly. "I've gotta go or I'm going to be late."

"Okay," Mary nodded, and then pulled me into her arms. "Be safe out there."

I nodded against her shoulder. "Thank you." I pulled away and gave a small smile before practically flying out the door. The drive was quick, too. Maybe just because I was too busy thinking about what happened. My hands gripped the steering wheel, parked outside Nelson and Murdock. This had to be all some crazy dream. I didn't really fall for a mass murderer that just happened to walk into a Café— _my_ Café. It was all a dream.

Any moment I would wake up, realize it was a dream, and start laughing about how stupid it all was. Wait, did I really just admit that I'd fallen for him? I shook my head at myself. This was ridiculous. And I was an idiot. An even bigger one for sticking around. After a minute, I pulled myself together and started into the building. Up the stairs and down the hall—right to the door with the cardboard sign. I pushed through the door.

Karen instantly stood up from the front desk and walked around it, coming over to me. I sighed. "Hey, Karen," I said, tiredly. She wrapped her arms around me in a quick hug before stepping back, eyeing me with a sympathetic expression. "The lawyer's in there," she said, gesturing to the conference room to the right. "I already gave my statement about the hospital, so…it's all you."

I nodded once and started in. Foggy looked up from his chair and grimaced. I took a seat across from him, to the left of this lawyer that's supposed to be representing Frank. He looked like a nerdy nut case. Glasses, weird haircut, expensive but eclectic suit. _The Nutty Professor_. "Wow, Alison…" was all Foggy could say.

"I know, it's bad," I mildly glared. Then I turned to the lawyer, slightly annoyed already. "Alison Fletcher. And you are…?"

He held out his hand and I begrudgingly shook it. "Christopher Roth. Uh, I'm the public defender representing Mr. Castle," he explained, though I already knew the last bit. "I just need you to read through the account of the other night's events, tell me if everything is correct, uh, and then we'll be done here." He slid a few pages of paper that were stapled together at the corner over to me, also putting a pen beside it before sitting back in his chair.

I inhaled and pulled the pages closer. It didn't take long to find errors in the hospital recount. But Roth said he'd discussed those with Karen and they'd be fixed along with hers. So I continued on to the section about the other night with the Irish. Everything seemed accurate. Until I hit a snag at the second sentence. "Wait- uh…you said here that I was first taken by Punisher and then the Irish took the both of us," I held up a finger, my eyes shifting up to the lawyer.

He nodded. "Yes."

"That's completely false. I went there of my own accord. I was a, uh…a passerby," I tried to explain—lying wholeheartedly. "The Irish showed up and, I was in the area, so they took me to use against Frank. Innocent civilian is the roll I play in this, got it?" The lawyer nodded vigorously and quickly wrote on his pad of paper. "And, why does it say that? I never said that."

He looked up and pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose in a nervous tick. "Well, uh, I- I'm not exactly sure," he squinted to see the paper in front of me. I rolled my eyes and continued reading. There were several errors. I mean, we're talking Titanic-style errors here. But I firmly straightened out every last one of them. The worst one was about what happened at the cemetery. Some crud about how I fled to the incoming police in fear for my safety.

More like, I was pushed away by a guy I trusted while he was bleeding to death. The statement made it seem like I was running from something Frank did, and nothing the Irish could have done would change the sentence. "How can you call yourself a lawyer, Skippy?" I questioned, my tone a bit harsher than I intended. The lawyer looked squirming as he wrote down the changes to make. "Have you ever even seen the inside of a courtroom?"

"Alison," Foggy sighed.

I looked to him and snapped, "What?"

"Take a deep breath, alright? This kind of stuff always happens," he reasoned, calmly. Seeing just how calm he was only irked me further. I inhaled and turned back to the lawyer, trying to heed Foggy's advice. It didn't quite work. The lawyer finished writing it all down and looked up at me. "Alright, um, I will make these changes and have you sign them and wrap this up," he said, before standing.

I raised an eyebrow. "Wrap this up?"

"The case," he clarified. "The DA practically has this locked in. There's no way Castle is winning." I clenched my jaw and he scurried into the main room. My fingers were curling into fists in my lap. No. In what world does all this horrible stuff happen and the bad guy wins? That wretched DA needs a swift kick straight to the- "Don't worry about it, I'm sure it's just-"

"Foggy," I snapped, looking at him. He instantly shut up with slightly rounded eyes. I lowered my voice, hushing it but keeping the anger. "Just stop." I stood with a heavy sigh of annoyance and left the conference room. The lawyer was talking to Karen when I entered the room and, just after I did, he left the law firm. "Well…that went well," Karen sighed.

"You're telling _me_ ," I exhaled. She gave me a sympathetic but understanding look. Foggy came into the main room and slid his hands in his pockets, looking dissatisfied. It was grating on my nerves just having him around. Let alone if he said anything. Now that was even worse. I just wanted to hog tie him and throw him in a closet until this was all over. It'd probably spare a lot of us some much unneeded stress.

"Um," Karen seemed to be snapping out of a deep train of thought, looking to me. "Any word on Frank's condition from the hospital?"

I gave a shake of my head, crossing my arms. "They refuse to talk to me about _anything_."

"Maybe that's a _good_ thing?" Foggy started into the little kitchen area and I glared daggers at his back. Karen scoffed, looking like she was in shock and disbelief. "Foggy!" she admonished. Foggy continued pouring his cup of coffee like what he just said mattered. "What?" he asked, innocently.

"That was _really_ insensitive," Karen pointed out, a hand on her hip.

"It's the truth," Foggy walked to the doorway of the kitchen area and stood, a steaming mug in his hand, and I crossed my arms with an eyebrow raised—mockingly urging him to continue. "There's a reason he's called The Punisher—and it's not good. Far from it, actually. If either of you want to be safe at all while this blows over, then you better get out now."

My blood was boiling. "And just when I thought I couldn't dislike you less."

"He's a killer, Alison," Foggy rebutted. _Yeah? So am I_. "You really think he wouldn't think twice about putting a bullet in you just like all the others he's ever encountered?"

"Okay, _you_ need to stop talking," I warned, lowly.

"So we had a bad breakup- that doesn't mean I can't still care about you, Alison," Foggy shot back.

That's it. I've had enough. "If you really cared about me to begin with you wouldn't have _cheated_ on me!" I shouted, dropping my arms. His expression told me he regretted me saying that way more than I did. Karen fidgeted a moment, glancing between us. She mumbled something about getting some air and quickly stepped outside the law firm. My heart was in my throat. Foggy's eyes were sympathetic, apologetic.

"You're right," he nodded slowly, saddened. "I should've been there, with you. That shouldn't have gone down like that."

I inhaled, straightening. "Yeah, but it did. And the moment you did that, you signed over all rights you might have had. What I do and who I care about is none of anyone's business—let alone _yours_. So stop acting like there's still something between us." I tried to sound as calm and diplomatic as possible. Foggy just stared at me as I turned and pushed through the door into the hallway. Karen jolted a little, standing a couple feet to the right.

The door fell shut behind me and I sighed as she stepped over to me. "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned. I nodded once on an exhale and started past her for the stairs. As if things couldn't get any worse. Now I've literally just blown that ship out of the water. But, oh well. _That bandage needed ripped off a long time ago_. I've got places to be.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"Looks like every outlet in the town wants a word with Castle," I heard Karen's voice and it led me to the others. Karen walked away as I approached.

"Or a report on who does," Foggy said. "Come on."

"Sorry, I'm late," I said. "Traffic was crazy." I followed Matt, Foggy, and Alison to the big doors leading deeper into the hospital. A heavily armed guard and a nurse blocked the way. "Are you press?" the nurse asked.

"Uh, no, attorneys," Matt said. Foggy instantly reached into his pocket for his ID. I sighed and turned to Alison. "You won't be able to go in," I said. She scoffed. "You're a witness and you're not a lawyer."

"Neither are you," she argued.

"Yeah, but I'm an associate with Nelson and Murdock, they'll let me."

"I'll stay with her," Karen said. I looked at Alison kind of pointedly. She rolled her eyes, not pleased. I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and then showed the guard my ID. Before I knew it, we were past the doors and in the elevator to go see Frank. "Remind me why I'm here," I said.

"He knows who you are," Matt said. "He's more likely to accept our help with you there."

"Right."

"'Knows who you are'?" Foggy asked. "What does that mean?" I glanced at Matt. He looked to the side pretending not to have heard the question. I looked at Foggy. He shook his head. "No, no."

"He knows I'm Angel. It's a long story."

"Are you insane?"

"Yeah, Foggy. Get used to it." The elevator doors opened and we stepped out. Another guard stopped us. Mahoney stood about twenty feet away. He turned and saw us. "What are you three doing here?" he asked, walking up to us.

"Brett…" Foggy said. "You're wearing a tie…and it's not a clip-on."

"It's not a good time, Foggy."

"How'd you get babysitting duty, Sergeant?"

"A detective sergeant now," he tapped the badge hanging around his neck.

"A promotion?" I asked.

"Uh, just lucky. Top dogs like the press of a good collar."

"Yeah, and the cops that get 'em," Matt said.

"Congratulations, Detective," Foggy said.

"I'm sorry but the area is restricted beyond this point," Mahoney said. "You can't be here."

"What if we have business with Frank Castle?" Foggy asked.

"Business? The guy's barely conscious."

"Our firm wants to represent him," Matt said.

"Man's already got a lawyer."

"Yeah, we met that benchwarmer," Foggy said. "Not the freshest fish the city could've drummed up, but…he's in the running."

"Brett, we feel Nelson and Murdock is better equipped to represent Mr. Castle's best interests," Matt said. "Certainly over that of his current legal counsel."

"Look, I don't ask questions, but every firm in the city's passed this one by," Mahoney said. "Must be a reason. You're chasing the wrong ambulance."

"The DA wants the death penalty."

"The public defender is more than willing to help," I said. "They'll even extradite Castle out of New York if that's what it takes."

"So we thought he'd respond to our strategy," Foggy said, "of, you know, keeping him alive." Mahoney had his arms crossed, taking in everything we were saying. "Come over here," he nodded to the side. We followed him the two feet to the wall. He started speaking low, whispering. "Look, none of this is my problem. But all I know is, you go up against this DA and lose? The only funeral to attend will be your firm's." He looked at me. "And your business. You're all talking career suicide."

"If we walk away…" Matt said, "we're letting him die." If only Alison could see this now. Mahoney sighed. Then a second later he turned around and walked toward the other guards near the door. "Bags and briefcases get searched." We followed him to the men. "Do not give Castle anything. Do not take anything from him. Arms up."

"They already searched us when we came in downstairs," Foggy said.

"Yeah? And we're gonna do it again," Mahoney said. About five minutes later, he was leading us to the door. "Everything's been removed from inside the room. He's tied down, but keep your distance and mind the tape. Do not step past it," he looked at Foggy, "or I get to make my dream come true and arrest you." Foggy flashed a guilty smile. Mahoney unlocked the door and then swung it open for us, stepping back.

We walked through the door and into the large room. Nothing was in it, except for the bed in the back. A large red line of tape drew a bow around then bed, a few feet from it. I'm assuming that the line. Matt walked forward, toward the bed. He kept going until he almost walked over the tape. "Matt, the tape." As soon as Foggy said that, Matt stopped.

"Frank Castle," Matt said. "My name is Matthew Murdock." Frank opened his eyes, slowly looking our way. "These are my associates, Franklin Nelson and Danielle Dylan." His eyes flickered to each one of us.

"Yeah," he said. "I know who you are. You protect scumbags."

"We came here today to make you an offer," Matt continued. Frank's eyes landed on me. And stayed. Like the creepy stalker who won't go away. But I held my gaze, my arms crossed lightly in front of my pelvis. I raised my chin slightly. He needs to know I'm here to help. That we all are. "We don't want money for our services, we're not…interested in fame or free advertising. Weren't even assigned to your case." Frank looked at Matt. "We don't have to be here." Then he looked back at me.

I could tell he knew I had something do with this. Us being here. If only he knew that Daredevil and I were both here. "But if you take a quick look around you'll notice we're the only ones who are," Matt continued. He looked at Matt. "As you may well know, your list of enemies extends way beyond the gangs you've killed. You're very good at making powerful enemies. And the day you were admitted to Metro-General for the round you took to the head, a do-not-resuscitate order was placed on you."

"And a shoot-to-kill order, just a few days ago," Foggy said.

"We know," I said, "because we heard it given." His eyes shot my way at the sound of my voice.

"These orders were issued by the District Attorney," Matt said. "The fact that she's had it in for us ever since we started asking questions tells us we're on the right track. Someone in the DA's office wants you dead, Mr. Castle…and we'd like to know why."

I stepped forward. "Let them take your case," I said. "They can soften your sentence. And we can find out who's responsible for killing your family."

"Why don't you and Red give it a rest?" he said, so raspy I could barely make it out. It was more a statement than a question. "I never pegged you as a lawyer."

"I'm not," I crossed my arms. "I'm a Private Investigator. I've helped these guys in the past. They're good for it, Frank." He looked up at the ceiling. I glanced at the others. Matt couldn't say anything without Frank possibly finding out who he is. And Foggy stood back like Frank had the Plague. I sighed, dropping my head.

"Is she okay?" I looked up at Frank. He was staring right at me, into my eyes, searching for an answer. I slightly froze, startled by the change in subject. So he asked again, more forceful. "Is she okay?" Matt put his hands on his hips and turned to the side. He wasn't happy.

"Yeah," I finally said, like it was a duh statement. "And, she'll be even better when you choose us and _don't_ get the electric chair." He opened his mouth to say something and then didn't. "These guys know I'm Angel." He looked between them, slightly startled by that. I walked over the line and stood at his side.

"Alison's been in the waiting room this whole time, a mess, waiting to hear about you. But no one will tell her cause she's not family and she's not your lawyer. Everyone's tried to get her to leave," I scoffed, "even her own son. And she still won't. She's downstairs, right now, praying you'll take these guys as your lawyers. They are close friends of mine, and Matt? He's my boyfriend." He glanced at Matt and raised an eyebrow. "I trust these men with my life. But if not for that, or any other reason in the world, do it for _her_. Do it for the girl who cried when she was told you might get the death penalty."

He eyed me. His eyes crazy, wild. I knew I'd crossed the line (literally), but I didn't care. He needs to hear the truth. "Do it for the girl who _loves_ you despite the trail of death you leave in your wake," I continued. His eyes softened. "I promise you, Frank, I'll find who killed your family." His eyes were wild again, intrigued. "And when I do…I'll make sure you're there when the trigger gets pulled." I felt someone's hands grab my arms and pull me back. It was Matt. Just then, I heard the scuffling outside the door.

He pulled me back to where we were, just as the DA walked in. I'm convinced that stands for Demon Attorney. But that could be a miss translation. "You three, out! Now!" she yelled. I looked back at Frank. His chest heaved, at what I can only assume is adrenaline from what I said. Matt grabbed my arm and pulled me out. We walked down the hall, the DA on our tail.

"Get your things and go," she told us.

"Uh, we have a little bit of business here left," Matt said.

"Frank Castle already has counsel. So, unless you've asked the public defender for permission to speak to his client, you are in violation of New York legal ethics."

"We spoke to the PD this morning. To be honest, he doesn't seem all that prepared to tackle this case. Although he did mention the conversation that you had with him yesterday."

"Matt Murdock, is it?"

"Yeah, pleasure to meet you."

"You have a reputation of being a smart man, Mr. Murdock. And since your colleagues seem unable to grasp the hornets' nest they keep kicking, let me direct this at you. Leave this ward, leave this man, leave this entire case behind before you wake up six feet under the ash that was your reputation and promising legal career."

"We have the right to a conversation with a perspective client."

"Not if there's a conflict of interest."

"And what conflict is that?" I crossed my arms. She looked at me, eyeing my clothing. Everyone here is in suits and ties. I'm wearing ratty jeans, boots, and a hunter green t-shirt. She finally met my eyes. "Elliot Grote. And who are you?"

"Danielle Dylan, from Dylan investigations. Feel free to try and put _my_ reputation six feet under with theirs'. I'm afraid you'll find it's already there."

She glared at me. "You can't represent Castle when one of his victims was your former client." She was clearly talking to them, but I didn't care. I was having fun staring back.

"Representing Grotto might have complicated matters," Matt said, "but then again, all evidence of our work with him and our deal with you seems to have disappeared from public record."

"It's almost as if someone," I said, "didn't want it known that you violated a witpro contract, jeopardized the safety of said witness, and then ordered a shoot-to-kill on Castle." She glared at me.

"But I guess Ms. Reyes could just confess to that," Foggy said, "when she files this conflict of interest complaint. We have our case files to back up our story. How's your side looking?"

"The fact of the matter is," Matt said, "Ms. Reyes, the only person who shouldn't be here right now is you. Seeing as it's a breach of ethics for the prosecuting attorney to communicate with the defendant without his assigned legal counsel present. So, if you'll excuse us, we'd like to resume convincing Mr. Castle, unlike his current legal counsel, we can actually help him."

"You already did," Mahoney said, appearing out of nowhere. "Castle doesn't want the public defender. Says Nelson and Murdock are his lawyers now."

"Thank you, Detective Sergeant. If you'll excuse us." We walked down the hall to a room and then piled in. "That was nuts!" I said.

"Yeah," Foggy agreed. "But you convinced him. Whatever you said worked."

"Let's have the charges and evidence summery brought in here," Matt said. "We can weed through it and work out what terms we want directly with Frank. It'll save time."

"You do realize this is where Karen would've come in handy?" I asked.

"Yeah, I know," Foggy sighed, wide eyed.

"Thanks," I scoffed. There was a knock at the door. Matt told them to come in. The door swung open, revealing a nicely dressed older man. Looking too much like a butler. "Car service for a Mr. Murdock," he said.

"Car service?" Foggy asked. I looked at Matt.

"Um…it's, uh, not a very god time," he said to the guy.

"My employer was quite insistent."

"His employer?" I asked.

"Yeah, the new…the new client," he said. He looked at the guy. "Could you, uh, give us a minute?" The guy turned and left. Yeah, the…that new client I mentioned, um, I forgot I scheduled a meeting."

"When?" Foggy asked.

"I guess it's now, I suppose."

"Seriously? After you insisted we come here?"

"Foggy, you saw the bank deposit. I know the timing is awful, um…"

"It's okay, just go," Foggy said, clearly holding back a scream. "Go."

"Alright. Um…call me with any issues. This shouldn't take long, anyway." Matt turned and headed for the door. We walked out and I quickly followed. "Matt," I called. He stopped. "I thought you were done with her."

"Yeah, me too," he shrugged. "She won't take the money back, I'm trying to sort it out." I stared at him. My lie detector was in the red, but showed no signs of it. I sighed. "It'll be fine. I'll be back soon." He kissed me on the cheek. "Call me if you need me."

I walked back into the room with Foggy as my phone buzzed. I pulled it out and read the text. "Oh, no," Foggy moaned. "Not you, too!"

"Mary's got a flat and she's stuck in a sketchy part of town."

He sighed. "Go."

"You've got this Foggy, okay? I'll send Karen up. Apparently Alison went home and she's got Lizzie at her place." I walked up to him and hugged him. "You'll do fine. Just make sure he doesn't tell Karen who I am."

"Don't worry. I'll keep her in here with the papers."

"Thanks, Foggy. Bye."


	18. Mary

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"Yeah, don't know what she did to it," I spoke into the phone. "But it's totaled."

"What was she doing?" Alison asked from the other end. Mary and I were walking down the street. We were on our way home. But we had to get a cab, which was hard. Weird for New York. We decided to walk until we got one. "She was driving down the road," I said, "it hit something that blew the tire and then slammed into a pole."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine." Mary was motioning for the phone. "Just a sec." I handed it to her. She gladly took it. "Hey," she said. "How's Elizabeth?...And she ate just fine?...Good….Yeah, I'm fine….I can work all day, if you need me too….Sounds good….Tell her I love her….Okay, bye." She handed the phone back as a cab pulled up. We waved it down. It pulled up in front of us.

"Yeah, we just got a cab," I told Alison. Mary opened the door and then slid in. "Oh, you'll be happy to know, Castle took the deal." I got into the cab as Mary was rattling off the address to the driver. "I can tell you the details when I get home. Pour Foggy, we left him there alone."

"Where's Matt?"

I scoffed. "With his tramp," I said. There was pure silence on the other end. "I'll tell you about that, too." I looked ahead at the road. I like to keep track of where I am. My eyes slightly passed the driver before going back to my lap. Alison was talking, but I couldn't hear her. My adrenaline had spiked and it was all I could do to keep from showing it. It can't be. I've got to be wrong.

I casually looked out my window for a two blocks and then glance back up front. I looked on the passenger's side. My eyes made sure to catch a glimpse of the rear view mirror. I went back to staring out my window. I pretended to still be engaged in the conversation. A shiver ran up my spin. It's him.

I'd recognize his eyes anyway. It's Ward. He's driving the cab. This was no accident. Mary got a flat on purpose. We couldn't find a cab on purpose. Coulson was right. And now Ward wants me. Alison was still babbling, I don't know what about. "Okay, slow down, you're rambling again. You know I can't understand you when you do that."

She paused. "Dani?"

"Yeah, we should be home-" I stretched to pretend like I was looking for where we were at. I was really looking to see it he was armed. I sat back. "Oh, about ten minutes." He wasn't from what I could see. "Hey, have you heard from Matt, he said he wasn't feeling too good, earlier?" That was our cue. Ask if a loved one is feeling better.

"Does he have a gun?"

"Oh, he's not? That's too bad. Does he need anything?"

"Do you have any idea where Matt is right now?" she asked.

"No, but I can call him." I leaned toward Mary. "Can I use your phone? Alison can't get a hold of Matt." She quickly pulled out her phone and dialed the number. Then gave it to me. It rang and then went to voice mail. So I left a message: "Hey, Matt, it's Dani. When you get this can you give Alison a call? She wants to make sure you're fine. Thanks, bye." I hung up and gave it back to Mary. She and I shared a glance.

She knows the code, too. And that wasn't Matt I called. It was Clint. I know it'll take him a while to get here, but if we go missing it'd be nice to know he was looking for us. I put my phone back up to my ear. "Sorry, Aly. He didn't answer. I'd keep trying though. Don't bother with Foggy, he doesn't know anything. I have to go, we should be about there."

Mary was trying to keep calm next to me. This has never happened before, but she knows how to follow the rules. "I don't know what to do. I don't know if Matt will answer."

I scoffed. "Please. Cooking a bird is easy. Just bake it at three seventy-five, till the nipple pops. You know, just read the package." I sighed. "Yeah, bye." I hung up and then dialed Matt's number. The odd part was…we really were on the way to my house. She told him Alison's and he chose to drive to my place? I looked at Mary, "I know you wanted to talk. Just a sec I need to make sure everything's fine." She smiled back.

This time, I was actually calling Matt. His phone rang and rang. Then it went to voice mail. I sighed. I looked up at Ward. He knew I knew. "I'm gonna need some back up," I said into the phone. "And, a lot. Mary's with me. Call Alison as soon as you can." My eyes met his. "Ward's back…and he's got us." I hung up. He'll know something's wrong. As soon as he hears it. Ward was slipping on a gas mask, blasting the air vents.

It wasn't long before I started gagging. The doors were locked and I couldn't get out. I tried to break the window, ramming my elbow into it. My head started to feel fuzzy. He must've upgraded the car. I glanced at Mary and she was already passed out. I've seen what Ward does to people when he kidnaps them, and it's never pretty. Everything faded to black.

I jolted hard, awake. I was in a wooden chair, my wrists tied to the arms. I was gagged with a cloth of some sort. Mary was in the same position, three feet in front of me. She was awake and trying to talk through the gag, crying. I followed her eyes and looked around. We were in my living room. The lights were off, with nothing but the moon light. The coffee table had been moved, pushed aside so we could face each other.

"Finally," I hear his voice and cringed. He walked into view, to the front desk. He sat on the edge, holding Angel's mask is his hands. "Unfortunately for her," he pointed to Mary, "we couldn't find the Devil. Or else, he'd be here." Oh, don't worry. One day my bullet will lead you right to the Devil. "So we went with second best."

He stood and tossed the mask on the desk. "With Hunter it was his ex wife, for May it was her ex husband." He looked at me, puzzled. "You don't have any of those, which is surprising. So I figured…you're brother's widow should do." I pulled at the ropes around my wrists, screamed curse words into the gag.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I can't here you," he taunted. I rolled my eyes and huffed. "You've been hunting me for quite a while now. I was disappointed when you stopped." I looked up at Mary. Her eyes were closed and tears were gushing from them. "So, I thought I'd come to you," he out stretched his arms. He was along as far as I could tell. "Ah…this is so much nicer when you can't reply."

I grunted. What is he waiting for? Is he waiting for Matt? "But, see. Just cause I couldn't find him, doesn't mean I don't know where he is." I tried to talk through the gag. "Oh, what was that? Here." He walked up and pulled it out of my mouth. As his hands left I lunged for his fingers. I missed 'cause he stepped back.

He pulled out a gun and put it to Mary's head. "Enough of that. That was quite rude, wouldn't you agree?" he looked at Mary. She was balling.

"Don't touch her. I don't care what you think you know, she has done nothing wrong. Neither did Bobbi or Dr. Garner. It was their loved ones who messed up!"

"You came into S.H.I.E.L.D., the golden child returning. You made it a whole lot harder to gather intel."

"You want intel? I'll tell you where the base is and it's all yours. But if this is all because of little jealousy…"

He smiled. "If only it were that easy. But, thanks, I've got all the intel I need." Two large men walked in the front door. "Untie her," he pointed to Mary.

"No, no-" he quickly gagged me again.

"Can't have anyone spoiling the fun." The men took Mary to the living room wall and placed the rope around her wrist on a hook they'd screwed in. Her feet were about five inches off the ground. They tied her ankles and then screwed them to the wall, too. Ward got in my face. "See…I am going to kill you. Just…after."

I fought against the ropes as another man walked out of the back room. He had my bow and quiver. Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. He gave them to Ward. He thanked him and then walked over to the couch. He sat and then loaded the bow. The third guy turned my chair, angling it toward them more. I fought, screaming and kicking. Or, trying to.

I pulled hard on my wrists, not caring that I had blood pooling on the carpet. I need to get Ward. If I can get loose, I can take him. "When I tortured Bobbie," Ward said, standing, "Hunter wasn't there. He didn't get the idea. You on the other hand. You'll get the full picture." He raised the bow and pointed it at Mary. He pulled back the string. Then stopped. "Oh, wait. This isn't right." He looked at the guys. "Remove the gag." They promptly removed it. Now I could fully hear her crying.

I tried to work at my gag, to get it off. Ward raised the bow again. This time…he let the arrow go. It tore into Mary's thigh and she screamed. I cried as I listened. This can't be happening. He reloaded, taking his time. Maybe someone in the building will hear her. Maybe someone will call the cops.

Then he did it again. This one hit her on the left side of her stomach. She cried out again and so did I. I kept working at the rope, my wrists on fire. I leaned down to my wrist and used my hand to pull off the gag. I spit and sat up. "Mary!" I shouted. "Mary, look at me! It's going to be okay, okay? Help is coming."

"But not fast enough," Ward said before shooting another arrow. This one landed in her chest. "YOU ARE SICK, TWISTED HUMAN BEING!" I shouted. "YOU'RE A MORON IF YOU THINK YOU'LL EVER GET AWAY WITH THIS!"

"I already have." He shot another arrow. I didn't even look, this time. "UGH!" I pulled even harder. "I HOPE YOU ROT IN _HELL_ FOR THIS, GRANT!"

"See you there." He got another arrow ready and then pulled back. I squeezed my eyes shut dropping my head. What on earth is taking him so long? Matt should've been here by now. He knows how bad Ward is, I've told him what he did to Bobbi. Hot tears streamed down my face. I twisted my arm, palm up. I balled my hand into a fist and then tried pulling it toward me. I felt my wrist slightly leave the chair. I bit back the pain and pulled as hard as I could.

I pulled until the pain was too much. I slammed it back down and screamed in frustration. I looked back up and my heart skipped a beat. All the air left my lungs. Mary hung there on the wall, probably dead. Eight arrows in her. This can't be happening, why is this happening? I bent over sobbing, louder than I did when Andy died. It racked my whole body.

"Come on, Dylan." I looked up at Ward. "You knew this was the end result." He raised the bow again. A second later, her head was thrown back and pinned to the wall, an arrow in her forehead. "NO!" I screamed in anger, in rage, in sadness. For all the reasons why people scream when a loved one's been brutally killed in front of you. I screamed for my lost friend, my lost loved one. For yet another person that's been ripped out of Lizzie's life. For another death I've caused. For another life I couldn't save.

Ward tossed the bow on the ground at his feet. He walked over to me as I bowed my head, crying. "Don't be upset. I just did you a favor." I glared up at him. "You had to know one day someone would find her." My blood boiled. All I wanted was his head on a stick. To kill him in about a thousand different ways. All I could think of where the things I'd do to him once I got my hands on him. He reach over and pulled off my brown wig. The blonde hair spilled down my shoulders. He tossed the wig on the desk.

"That's better." He put his hands in his pocket and stared at me. "Tell me…Angel. What do you do when the hero needs saving? Clearly your devil's not coming." He glanced around the room and then back at me. "Maybe he realized what we all did. That this angel's not worth saving." My phone on my desk started ringing. Ward walked over to it and picked it up. "Hmm. Blocked call. Can't imagine who'd that be," he said, knowing darn well who it was.

He silenced it and then tossed it on the desk. "Probably Coulson…calling to tell you your brother's escaped." My head shot his way. I searched his eyes looking for a bluff. It can't be. "He had some help," he shrugged. "Small price to pay for getting to spend the evening with you. Without him, none of this would've happened." He reached behind him and pulled out his gun. "He said torture'd never work on you. I believed him. But the alternative plan…turned out better than I thought."

He dropped the clip, inspected it, and then slid it back in. "Your turn." He slid a bullet into the chamber and then stepped forward. He pressed the barrel into my forward. "Thanks for having me over, but I best be going."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My fingers quickly dialed Matt's number again. I held the phone to my ear. It rang. And rang. And rang—and then it just went to voicemail. Shocker. I huffed in frustration. Dani needs backup _now_ not in a couple hours, or whenever Matt decides he's ready to save his girlfriend. My eyes caught on something and they paused. The Angel jacket was draped over the back of my chair. I can't believe I'm even about to think this.

Snagging the jacket off the chair, I whizzed back around the corner and reached a hand under the area by the cash register. I pulled out the small drawer there and stopped. Inside was my jet black 9mm. "Chase?" I called, grabbing the gun. I dropped the clip and checked for ammo. "Chase?" I slammed the clip back in just as Chase spun around the corner from the stairs. I turned to him. He looked at me questioningly. "Mom, is everything okay?"

"I need you to lock the door behind me, alright? I'm going over to Dani's—you stay put. Understand?"

He just nodded once, swallowing. I moved over to him and bent, placing a kiss on the top of his head. My mind was racing, thinking. What if I do this, and I don't come home? Is it worth it? Yes. I hurried through the front door, but made sure Chase locked it before I got in my car. The whole car ride I was bracing myself. Bracing for what I might find—for if I'm too late to save them. But that won't happen.

I repeated it to myself like a mantra, my hands gripping the steering wheel. _They'll be okay, Alison. Calm down_. I swerved in front of Dani's building, cut the engine behind a taxi cab. My lungs were working double. This is it. I pulled my gun from my belt and slid out of the car. I shut the door quietly—leaving it open just an inch as to not alert whoever was inside of my arrival. My feet danced over the ground toward the door.

Suddenly someone came out from the door and I dove beside the building, in a shadow cast by a lack of light caused by the street lamp. I prayed he wouldn't see me. He took two steps out and reached into his pocket. He dug a moment before pulling out a cigarette and lighter. _Just remember what May taught you_. I inched along the side of the building toward the door. The man lit his cigarette and took a long pull.

He puffed out smoke just as I arrived behind him. I raised the gun and slammed the butt of it into the back of his bald head. He dropped and I eyed him a moment. He was out cold. I nodded to myself and slipped inside. My finger rested loosely on the trigger, ready to fire. My feet hit the stairs and I started up. As I rounded to the second floor, my eyes just barely caught something heading toward me before I ducked, missing it.

When my head popped back up I could see it was another goon, dressed in black like that man outside. I swung my fist and it connected with his jaw. His head snapped left and I grabbed his arm with one hand, twisting it out, then grabbed his shoulder with the other. I shoved him down enough to hike my knee up. My knee collided with his face. I heard a crack. He let out a muffled cry as I grabbed his shaggy hair.

I yanked his head back and twisted, thrusting him forward into the wall beside the stairs. His forehead bounced off the solid surface. But he seemed to catch himself, staggering as he turned on me. He just looked angry now. I took a step back. He swung and I ducked quickly, just barely missing it. As soon as I was up, his hands were around my throat. My gun fell out of my hand and I tried to grip at the man's wrists.

My lungs stopped cold turkey. They weren't even trying to move anymore. His hold was so tight. I struggled, backing up, toward the railing of the staircase. He followed me in his refute to let up. I was desperate now. I rammed my head forward against his grip. It got just enough contact to make his grip loosen. I used the advantage to slip free and turn, giving him an instinctual shove. Little did I know how close to the edge we were.

He flipped forward over the railing and I gasped in ragged breaths. My eyes widened as I threw myself into the side of the railing. A hard smack let me know he'd hit the bottom before I'd even glanced over the edge. He lay splayed out on the cement floor on level one, dead. No. No, no, no, no. Not again. Now my lungs struggled for a different reason. It felt like I'd just been speared through the stomach. I did the only thing I could.

I grabbed my gun off the floor, took a deep breath, and took the stairs two-at-a-time up to the fifth floor. I made it to Dani's apartment without making too much noise with my feet, nor did I run into any more goons. The door was halfway open, light casting into the hall. I took easy steps toward it. Suddenly a male voice echoed out faintly. I couldn't make out the words, but I knew it wasn't good. I cocked the gun and pushed open the door.

I slid inside the apartment in a sliding step, instantly holding up my gun to aim at whoever was there. And there he was. Some guy held a gun to Dani's forehead. She was tied to a chair in the middle of the living room. Her face was practically drenched with tears. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," I tightened my jaw to keep my voice from shaking.

The guy twisted to look at me. Even just his face looked like pure evil. He cracked a smile. "Well, well…you must be the journalist," he said, standing up straighter as he eyed me, amused. "It's only just that you're here for this. To see the Angel of Hell's Kitchen fall."

I swallowed. "You ever hear of The Punisher? I know him-" I tightened my grip on the trigger, secretly aiming. "-and if you pull that trigger I _promise_ you—you'll suffer a fate much worse than a lousy bullet to the head."

"Look who's talking tough," he taunted. Dani looked at me and I almost couldn't move. The look of sheer devastation on her face was almost unbearable. Then it hit me. Where was Mary? There was a second chair, but she was nowhere that I could see. My heart ached, but my lungs were burning up as they pumped faster. Adrenaline is the best hormone, honestly. I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes.

"You can't do it can you?" he threw his head back laughing. "This is your backup, Dani? You've really got to get an upgrade-" His voice was drowned out by the loud crack from my gun as I pulled the trigger. The bullet went through his right upper arm, knocking his hand away from Dani. He gave a small cry of pain as he stumbled back. Dani looked like she was shocked but I think she was too devastated to really get what was happening.

I took steps forward, aiming again. The monster still wasn't down. He looked up at me just as I pulled the trigger a second time. This bullet when into his lower right leg. There's an artery that runs in there so, even if he gets away, he won't make it very far. The corner of my right eye caught movement and I turned my head. A third goon was charging, gun in hand. I shot him in the knee cap and he tucked and rolled with a scream.

He didn't even make it within five feet of me. I turned back toward Dani and froze. The guy was gone. No. He can't get away. "Hold on, okay?" I told her. Then I bolted to Dani's closet. The door was flung open, blood smearing the knob and side of the arch. I hurried through the hatch and up to the roof. The icy wind hit me hard, thrusting my hair into my face as I stood. I vigorously pushed it back and I saw him, across the roof.

I held up my gun, taking steps forward. "Hands!" I shouted, halfway there. He turned around to face me. Blood dripped form his arm and leg. He looked weakened, but there was a gleam of determination in his eyes even I couldn't ignore. "Walk away. Maybe I should pay your son a little visit, too, hm? That would be nice," he visibly thought, tauntingly.

I stopped, a couple yards from him. "I'm the one holding the gun," I squared my shoulders, holding my ground. "End this—before I have to end you."

"You're welcome, by the way. Have fun with your… _fallen_ angel." He took a step back and dropped off the edge of the roof. My eyes widened and I sprinted to the edge. I looked down, expecting to see the stairwell all over again. But there was nothing but a dumpster of black trash bags in the ratty alley below. I let out a breath. Then my mind suddenly scattered. Oh no. I turned and high tailed it back into the building.

I hit the floor of the closet from the hatch just as I heard a desperate, "ALISON!" It was a part of a strangled sob. Dani. I moved faster than I think I ever have in my life. I skidded into the living room and my body went rigid, my heart lurching into my throat. Dani was on her knees, holding a limp Mary in her arms, covered in blood. Arrows were lodged into Mary's body. I covered my mouth with my hand to hold back a scream.

Tears almost instantly rolled down my cheeks. "Alison, help me!" Dani sobbed, looking up at me. "You have to do something!" I slowly let my hand drop as I walked in. My stomach tumbled, threatening to retch up everything I'd ever eaten. My heart was slowly sinking down to my feet, step-by-step. My heart broke even further at Dani's plea. She wanted me to fix _this_? How? I would need a time machine. I knelt on one knee beside Dani.

She turned to me, sobbing. This was one of the only times I'd ever seen her cry. "Dani…" my voice was a strangled whisper. She looked down at Mary and slowly stroked her hair, sobbing hard. Her whole body was shaking violently. "She's gone." Saying it out loud is much worse than thinking it. She squeezed her eyes shut and I could feel a sob ripping its way up my throat. She let out a painful scream and I wrapped my arms around her blood-laden shoulders.

Her head lolled onto my shoulder while she sobbed, still holding onto Mary's body. I was sobbing right along with her. I had just seen Lizzie not five minute before I headed over here. Dani's sobs were so loud, and they racked her body so hard that I was shoved every time she did. I held onto her tightly while she cried. My chest was aching—no, _throbbing_. This couldn't be happening. Not tonight. Not after all we've been through.

Mary…she was like my sister. I loved her so much. But I can't even begin to imagine what pain must be ebbing through Dani right now. It took a long time, maybe an hour or two, but I finally got Dani to let go of Mary's body. It was horrifying to even think about so I tried my best not to look directly at it. I pulled Dani up to her feet and over to the couch. She dropped on it, throwing all her weight into it. Just as we sat, I heard sirens.

Oh, now you want to show up? I've got some things in mind for when I next see Mahoney. His precinct needs an overhaul. And better vehicles—because, obviously, that's a problem for these people. It didn't take long for the cops to get to the apartment. The rushed in with their guns up. "NYPD!" one shouted.

"Over here!" I called back.

The first cop came into the living room. He looked young, maybe late twenties. He looked to be just as appalled by Mary's body as I was when I first saw it. "Are you two okay? Are you hurt?" a female cop asked, walking further in past her partner. I nodded and she looked around the room. "What happened here?"

Dani's sobs had somewhat quieted, but her face was remained firmly pressed into my right collar bone, gripping me tightly. "Some guy tied them up, tortured them," I said, gesturing toward Dani and Mary's body at the word _them_. "I only just got here."

"Did you get a good look at the perp?" the male officer asked.

I shook my head. "He was wearing a mask. I only just caught a glimpse of him as he ran away." They said something into their radios but I wasn't really paying attention. I held Dani against me tightly. Soon the sun will rise, and maybe this will hurt just a bit less. Who am I kidding? This hurts too much to dull anytime soon. And Dani…she doesn't seem to feel anything but pain right now.

One thought crossed my mind. The Police were ushering us out downstairs, urging us to get checked out by the EMTs waiting by ambulances. We went over to one of them just to get Dani's wrists bandaged. She'd torn a good chuck out of both of them from the ropes. I couldn't stop thinking, though— _where was Matt?_


	19. Family Ties

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Dani lead the way through the hall. My stomach was in knots. Neither of us slept very well last night. Or at all. Nor did we eat anything before coming here. So, not only is my stomach soured by not eating, but it's also got what happened last night and what's about to happen to contend with. This is the last chance we've got, and Dani said she could get me in to see Frank before they cart him off to jail. So we came in way of roof.

It wasn't the best idea I think either of us has ever had. I mean, we could both probably get arrested for something regarding this plot. And yet, here I am. Here we both are somehow. We started toward the hospital room door. There was only one cop posted there this morning. He looked young and possibly new to the force—so he'd be our best bet.

He turned toward us as we approached. "Who are you?" he questioned, a hand resting on his pistol.

Dani sighed. "We're from Nelson and Murdock—here to talk about the case." The cop eyed us a moment, obviously thinking.

He raised an eyebrow. "No one told me you were coming…?" he said, timidly.

"Really? This has been scheduled for the last three days!" she threw her arms up in mock outrage. "Why can't you people ever get this right? Nelson and Murdock, here for our scheduled meeting with Mr. Castle. You honestly can't mess this up." He nodded, seeming alarmed that he didn't remember. If I felt better this morning I probably would've been fighting laughter. But I couldn't make myself even crack a smile.

"Right, right—I'm so sorry about that, ladies," he sidestepped, gesturing to the door with a hand out. "Please. Go right in." Dani nodded, like that was what he should've said the whole time, and then glanced at me before pushing through the door. I slipped into the room behind her. She shut the door and my knees locked up. The room was practically empty. Nothing left but just the few things actually needed by the nurses and doctors.

A rectangle of red tape outlined the bed centered against the far wall, serving as a warning for all who step into the room. A thick black strap was tight across Frank's chest while silver cuffs kept his wrists shackled to the sides of the bed. He didn't look to be awake. Goosebumps shot up my arms at the sight of him. I felt a nudge in my side and glanced right. Dani gestured forward, "Go on. Don't worry about the tape."

I nodded once and turned back toward the bed. This is it. I haven't seen him since the cemetery. What he said about his family played in my head on an endless loop. For one moment's pause I almost couldn't make myself go over. But I finally convinced my feet to make their way to a foot from the end of the bed. I folded my arms loosely. "Frank?" Nothing. I inhaled, trying to speak up. "Frank?"

He stirred a second, before his eyelids slowly cracked open. His face was darkened with bruises. It was hard not to let the worry swallow me right then. "How are you feeling?" I asked, lightly. He stared at me for a bewildered second, his head tilted slightly. "Alison? How…how'd you get in here?" he asked, his voice a bit too raspy.

"You can thank Dani for that," I gestured a little to my right, toward Dani, standing by the door. "She tricked the guard. So, we're lawyers today." He looked relieved and concerned at the same time. In fact, his expression was almost too unreadable to even pick up on that. His eyes refused to leave mine, "Come here." You don't have to tell me twice. He didn't really even have to tell me once. I edged my way around to the right side of the hospital bed.

The only sound was the soft beep from the monitor for a moment as I stepped up beside him. Getting closer, the exact shape and placement of the bruises on his face became clearer. It definitely didn't look like the Frank he was before the Irish took us. I looked down. Though his wrists were cuffed on either side of the bed, his hands were still free. I slid my left hand into his.

He immediately intertwined his fingers, locking them with mine in a firm hold. My eyes shifted back up to meet his. They'd softened a lot since I'd looked at them last—and that was only a few seconds ago. Probably because he was just seeing the full color of the bruises on my jaw. "I lied," he said, suddenly. There was a certain hollow tone to his voice. My eyebrow rose a bit, curiously. "Chase asked me if I was in love with you, and I said I didn't know yet. I lied."

My chest tightened. I honestly wouldn't be able to breathe even if I badly needed air at the moment. I already knew what he was trying to get at. Deep down I did. But I needed to hear it. I had to ask anyway, "What are you saying?" My voice was quiet, slightly choked up sounding from the lump in my throat. How am I supposed to get through this without waterworks?

He visibly inhaled, watching me with an intense look to his eyes. "I've made up my mind," he was quiet for a moment, and I held my breath, bracing for what was coming next. "I love you, Alison. And I'm sorry you got dragged into all of this—it was the last thing I wanted. That never should've happened, I should've…I should've seen it coming. But I didn't and you got hurt because of it-"

"Frank," I shook my head, interrupting. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he held it back. "It wasn't your fault. Yes- they were after _you_. But don't think even for a second that I didn't want to be there at that park with you-" I swallowed, blinking hard. "-because I love you, too. Okay? Too much, I think." Every inch of his face was slowly softening more and more as I spoke. Until he looked like a bowl of melted pudding.

He took a deep breath, huffing it out just slightly against the belt across his chest. His thumb raked across my knuckles. The look in his eye told me that if he could, he would move—he would do something. It wasn't that hard to miss. Honestly, I felt the same way, except _I_ actually could move. So I did. I took another step forward—until I was flush with the guardrail on the bed—and leaned down. His head tilted back to meet my lips as they crashed into his.

The nausea in my stomach subsided, replaced with an anxious feeling of warmth. My jaw was still a bit sore from when the Irish took us. The movement there caused a twinge, and a dull ache replaced it. But I did my best to ignore it. I'd missed this feeling too much to let it go now. It made me think of the last time we'd kissed, in my car outside that ratty apartment building. All those stomach tumbling emotions swirling around.

This didn't feel like that. It felt like relief. It felt like _home_. I pulled back and rested my forehead against his. Immediately my lips longed for more, pleading. But I held it back as best as I could. I let my shoulders relax, keeping my eyes closed a moment longer. I inhaled to breathe him in. There was antiseptic and that infamous twang of hospital soap, but there was still an ounce of gun powder lingering on his skin.

"No matter what happens after this," he started, causing me to finally open my eyes. His gaze was already locked on mine. I swallowed, and he continued, "I don't care what I have to do. I'm coming home to you." _If you survive the trial_. That thought brought tears up to brim my eyes, threatening to spill over vibrantly. Why did I have to think that? Sometimes I hate my brain.

I sniffled hard. "You better."

"Guys? I don't want to be the pooper of the party here, but we should get going," I heard Dani's voice from behind. "That guard won't be working all day." Her tone was hollow from last night. Shoot, mine was a little, too. But she sounded sorry she was saying those words. And I can't blame her. The ache that was in my chest when I was sitting in the waiting room, unable to see Frank, was slowly creeping back in.

Frank sighed through his nose. "She's right. You can't get caught in here."

"I know…I know." I lifted my head and pressed my lips to his forehead. They lingered there a long moment before I finally stood upright. His fingers were still locked in mine, but they were starting to slip away now. It felt like he was slipping away from me. This may be the last time I ever see him. I didn't want to cry during this. I didn't want his last image of me to be sad. But hot tears started to slowly sear their way down my cheeks, one-by-one.

I tried sniffling it back, swallowing, "I guess I'll…see you on the flip side." My attempt at humor. Trying to lighten the mood. I forced my lips up as hard as I could, only managing a small attempt at a smile. I slid my hand from his and turned, taking steps toward Dani. She stood near the end of the bed now. "Thank you." I glanced behind me. Frank was looking at Dani, and Dani nodded before wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

And after one last look, she guided me out the door. We slipped out and, sure enough, that young cop from before was still standing just outside. We passed him and he pushed off the wall. "Get it all sorted out?" he asked, lightly.

"Yep," Dani nodded once. "Have a nice life."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

 **THREE DAYS LATER…**

I huffed an unsteady breath. Alison had snuck into my apartment the other day and collected some of my belongings. Clothes, photos…my gear. Dylan Investigations is currently closed until further notice, so I don't need my files right now. I stood at the printer, arms crossed. It'd print a page, push it out, and repeat. I stared at it, drowning out the sounds around me.

I have four more days to find Ward, before it's open season on Angel. Alison managed to convince Mahoney to delay the press release about what happened. The max he could do was seven days. In the name of 'the bad guy will get away if the world knows'. Because he knows I'm Angel, he agreed. But the other cops think I did it. Ward knew what he was doing. He made it look like Angel broke in and tried to kill us.

I know I can't find Ward. Or my brother. So my time needs to be spent proving Angel's innocence to the people of Hell's Kitchen. If that's possible. The printer stopped and I picked up the large stack of printed pages. I walked downstairs to the café and over to Chase. He was sitting near the juke box, thumbing through the songs. He stopped and looked up at me as I approached.

He knows what happened. I don't know what all Alison told him, but knows the high lights. I sighed and sat the papers down on the table next to him. "So…" I swallowed. My throat was always dry, sore. My eye lids felt heavy and worn. "Um…just do this on your way home from school or something. I just need it done as soon as possible." Each paper was a letter to my tenets, telling them of the closing of Dylan Investigations. Also explaining where they're supposed to bring their maintenance requests and rent. Since I'm not living there.

I sat a roll of tape on the stack and then reached into my pocket. "One on each door. Fold it in half and then tape it to the door." I pulled out a folded paper and then gave it to him. "Here's the list of all the inhabited rooms." He gingerly took it from me, nodding solemnly. "Thanks." I turned and headed upstairs. I changed my shirt, tried to make myself look normal.

I've been hiding from the world for the last three days. And if I ever want to find Ward, clear my name, and move on…I need to re enter it. I found Alison's make up bag in the bathroom. I put on some foundation, blush over that. I didn't want to go too nuts, I don't want people asking questions. But right now I look like death. I look like a zombie. Because that's how I feel; I'm supposed to be dead, yet somehow I'm alive.

I finished and then grabbed my black zip-hoodie on the way down the stairs. I hung back until Alison finished with her customer. I stepped up, resting my hand on the counter. "I'm heading out. Lizzie's asleep," I said. She nodded sympathetically. "Call if you…need anything." I turned to walk away.

"Oh, hey." I stopped and looked back at her. "Clint called the café. He's…on his way." I nodded, a pathetic closed mouth smile. Then I left. I walked passed my car and down the side walk. I don't care how far it was, I needed to move. I walked to the law firm. I know I'll see the others and they'll have questions. I haven't seen them in three days…and Alison's been covering for me. She told Matt Coulson needed me and I didn't have time to say goodbye. They told the others that I was at some PI convention, or something.

I don't think any of them bought it. It's not like me to drop off the face of the earth with no warning. I sighed, staring at the door to Nelson and Murdock. I need to keep it together. I can't cry, I can't think about what happened. I'm getting an update on the Castle case and then leaving. I nodded and then walked in.

Karen walked out of the conference/meeting room a second later. She looked surprised to see me. "Dani…hi," she said, holding a file. The room was cluttered with boxes. I tried to smile back, "Hi." She stared at me questioningly. I knew she was referring to my appearance. The makeup didn't help as much as I would've liked it to. I shook my head in the 'don't tell Matt' way. She nodded, seeming to understand. She walked around a stack of boxes and went back to what she was doing.

I headed into the room she came from. Matt and Foggy sat at the table, going over papers. I walked around the back of Foggy and sat next to him. He did a double take at me before smiling. "Dylan!" he said, reaching over and hugging me. "What are you doing here?"

Matt looked at me questioningly. He had no idea I'd entered until Foggy said something. Shocker. He doesn't know much these days. "I, uh-" I cleared my throat. "I just got back." I sounded like death warmed over. I'm sure Matt knew something was wrong just off of that. "Well," Foggy sighed. "You sound terrible."

"Yeah, I think I picked up a bug, or something. Or just lack of sleep, it…it was a long drive." I glanced over at Matt. He looked concerned. He had no idea where I was, I vanish for three days and then reappear sounding broken. Well, good. I hope he wonders where I was. Because I could've used him. "So how's the case coming?"

"Well," Foggy sighed. "We need to lock a defense. The insanity plea is still our best bet." I listened, trying to wrap my brain around it. It's been feeling bruised and over used. Makes thinking things out hard. I pulled my knees up to my chest, propping my heels on the edge of the chair.

I sighed. "I see where you're going. But…Reyes will have something better. Why don't you push for a mistrial?" I propped my elbow on the back of the chair and then leaned my head into my fist. My voice was tired and so was I. Tired of fighting. Tired of losing.

"She wouldn't see it coming," Matt reasoned. He didn't look fond of the idea, but saw the point of it. Foggy stood, stepping behind his chair, and sighed. "If we go down that road now," he said, "we've got to prove in a court of law that the government willfully hid evidence of the Punisher ambush. And, that Reyes was involved. We need an opening statement tomorrow."

"I can open with PTSD," Matt said. "Focus on Castle's time at war."

"Yeah, but we both know that's not what started this," I said. Did I really just come to that man's defense? What is happening to me?

"I know. But we need to make sure that he doesn't get the death penalty, that goes to a prison where he can get some help. Sighting PTSD could do that." He looked right at me.

I swung my head to the left while making a clucking sound with my tongue. "It's your case." He stared at me, not pleased. Now he knows something's wrong. But, knowing him. He probably thinks I'm mad he's been going out with that whore. Alison told me that they came into the café. That he didn't want Alison to know. He knew it'd get back to me and, guess what. It did. They already had plans and he lied right to my face.

He stood. "I need to get to work on the opening statement, but we need to be sure Castle's on board with this."

"I'll go." I said, unfolding myself and standing. "I was going there, anyway." I really wasn't planning on it, but I threw that last part in there to get a reaction out of Matt. Mission accomplished. "Okay," Foggy said. "I'll get my list of questions." He vanished into his office. Matt walked around the table to me, getting close.

He spoke in a hushed tone. "What happened while you were gone?"

I clenched my jaw, heat started to radiate off of me. "No, it's 'what happened while I was home?'." Now _he's_ clenching his jaw, sliding it sideways like he does. He's trying to read me, hear my heart…and I won't let him. "We all have moments of PTSD, Matt. This is mine." Foggy came out with the notes and I gladly took them from him. "Thanks."

"Yeah, just stick to the script."

"Got it." I walked out into the main room, Foggy right behind me. "Oh!" I spun around. "I wrapped up all my cases and am no longer accepting new clients. Or, as of this time."

"Why?" Karen asked, shocked.

"I need a break. I have this new thing…that'll be taking all of my time." I glanced at Matt as he walked out, hands on his hips. I snapped back to Foggy, holding up the list. "I'll fax you the answers." I walked to the door and opened it. Foggy ran after me. I stopped in the doorway and looked back. "What kind of thing?" he asked.

"Just…" I sighed and looked down. Then I looked back up. "The kind where you shouldn't be concerned if you don't see me for a few days at a time." He looked worried, but I didn't care. I turned and left. I took a cab to the prison they were holding Frank at. And believe me…it took everything I had to get in the back of it. I nearly puked on the way there.

Getting in the door of the prison was easy. It wasn't my first rodeo. I know the ropes. The guards walked me into the room I'd be meeting him in. Frank was already there, handcuffed to a table. He looked a little shocked to see me. I'm not surprised. He probably thought he'd be talking to his lawyer, not his PI. The guards left, closing the door.

I walked up to the table and sat down in front of him. I felt his stare on me the whole time. I looked up at him, opening my folder. He looked curious, more than anything. I looked down at the paper. "Nelson and Murdock think that it'd help your case if we could bring forth someone from your past, who knows the nature of your service."

"What's that got to do with anything?" he asked. I looked up at him. He looked confused.

"Character witness. Someone who can speak to what you've been through," I said, leaning back. I sounded like I didn't believe my own words, like I was saying what I was told to say. And I was. "They think PTSD will better help your defense." Once again, not convinced. He looked at me, more curious now. I could see his gears turning. "What?"

He held the stare a second longer. "Are you okay?" His question slightly caught me off guard. He has a habit of doing that. He's the last person I thought would ask about my well being. I shrugged, dropping my eyes to the paper. "You're on trial for multiple homicides," I said, "and you don't have a defense strategy in place." He scoffed and looked around the room. "What, now?"

"Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine. Getting right down to business." He looked at me. "You're usually more talkative than that."

"Yeah, well I don't feel like talking," I snapped. "I only came here to annoy my boyfriend. And it worked wonderfully, by the way." I held a stare with him for a few seconds. I broke it and ran my hand through my hair, letting out a long sigh. I looked down at the paper, read a few questions. A silence fell between us, but his stare never left.

"I've learned that it takes a lot to rattle your cage," he said. I looked around the room, avoiding him. "So what did it, huh? Who got to you?" I snapped back to him, my eyes meeting his. He was serious. He really wanted to know. Why? Why can't we just talk about what I came here for?

"My past," I sighed. He sat up, leaning slightly forward. Ushering me to continue. He knows a thing or two about pesty pasts. He stayed quiet, waiting for me to speak. "One of the teams I fought with," I started slow, testing the waters. "One of the guys turned out to be a spy, betrayed us all. And if that blow wasn't hard enough, he's been hunting us, and vise versa. We were getting dangerously close and something happened."

I sat up. "My, uh…'commander', he wanted me off the case. Which was fine, I was going to leave anyway. And then, this guy, the spy…he found me." I pushed back the tears. I'm not crying in front of a man they call 'The Punisher'. It's…just not happening. Especially not in prison. "He took us, me and my sister-in-law. Then he…" I sucked in a breath, switching gears in my mind. _It's just some case_. "-used my bow, filled her with arrows."

He sat back, a look of realization. He looked around, then back at me. "This happened the night before we came to see you," I said, my voice lifeless. "She…she had a daughter. She's only a year old, just a baby. Now both her parents are dead. And it's my fault."

He looked sympathetic. "Does Red know?"

I scoffed mockingly, like it was the most absurd thing I've heard, shaking my head. "Do you think if he knew, I'd be here telling you this?" I asked rhetorically. And he knew it. "Nah, he's…" I thought. "He's clueless. He's got some new girl he's messing around with." He chuckled slightly at that. "Well, what can I expect, you know? She's his ex, and she dumped him. So." I shrugged. I sighed and then slid the paper across the table. "Will you please just answer the questions so I can go home?"

He looked down at the paper. Then he looked up at me, a serious expression. "Did you get the guy?" he asked in a low tone.

"No," I leaned back and crossed my arms. "Not this time."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

It was hard working at all today. Seeing the Café without Mary in it…it just wasn't right. It felt so empty even though we had a practically packed house. The cash register was fixed yesterday, so at least that was one thing off my list that I didn't have to worry about today. It was nearing closing so I grabbed my tray and went to collect empty dishes and trash across the tables. People kept asking about my bruises.

And not a single person came in here without asking about Mary. Of course, I told them she was no longer working here. But I didn't know how to phrase it so that was all I said. I blew a huff of air through my nose and loaded my tray. The bell above the door jingled and I looked up. A blonde woman had just walked in. She took slow steps toward me. "Excuse me? Are you Alison Fletcher?" she asked.

She stopped just before a table that was a few feet in between us. "Congratulations, you found Waldo. What can I do for you?" I asked, hefting my tray and carrying it back behind the counter. The woman followed, stepping up on the other side of the counter from me. "Well, I was hoping I could talk to you," she answered, calmly. "Do you have a minute?"

I slid my tray into the sink and took a quick glace around the dining hall. It was pretty cleared out. Why not? I nodded a little. "Alright. Coffee?" I gestured to the pot.

She nodded. "Sure, thank you." I moved over to the coffee pot, nabbing two mugs on the way, and hefted the pot out of the machine. As I started pouring into the first mug, I looked over at the woman. She was looking around at the Café so she didn't notice. She looked oddly familiar. But I swore I'd never seen her before. I filed it away and poured the second cup.

Then I took the mugs around to the dining area and put them on the closet table. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral. I gestured toward the table and she easily sat. I took the seat opposite her, facing the front so I could check for anyone else coming in. She took a small sip from her mug before settling her eyes on me. "I think we're related," she replied, simply.

I raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think that…?"

"Sharon," she supplied. "Sharon Carter." _Carter_. That's my mother's maiden name. I suppose she could be my cousin? But why would mom never mention I had other relatives in New York? My mind was starting to race. To hide my inward panic, I took a drink of coffee. "So, Sharon, what makes you think we're related?" I asked, gently.

"Well, I know this isn't much to go on, but my father told me a couple weeks ago that he'd had an affair. And because of that I had a sister somewhere in New York City," she explained, slowly, deliberately. She watched me closely. Probably to see when and if I actually started to believe her. "So I looked into it. I knew my aunt had married and therefore took the name Fletcher instead of Carter."

"And you found my name," I finished, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

She nodded. "Exactly. This was the last thing I ever expected. But when I found out you existed, I knew I needed to meet you. Talk to you."

"Mom?" Chase's voice turned my head left. He stood at the end of the stairs, peering around the corner at the dining hall. I could feel Sharon's eyes on me. "Can you watch Lizzie? I have to go to the bathroom." I sighed and nodding, waving him over. The poor kid. He'd been with that baby practically every minute since I told him Mary wasn't coming back.

He quickly shuffled across the floor to the table, a bubbly baby in his arms. She was making gnawing sounds. He handed her off to me and turned to leave. "Hey- wait a second. Chase, this is Sharon. Sharon this is my son, Chase," I introduced, turning back toward Sharon a bit.

She smiled politely and held out her hand to Chase. He hesitantly shook it, giving me a questioning look. "It's nice to meet you," she said, dropping his hand. She looked at Lizzie. "Is that one yours, also?"

I quickly shook my head. "No, no—this is a friend's; I'm just watching her until she gets home."

"Who are you?" Chase asked, looking curiously at Sharon.

"Chase," I sighed.

"It's okay," Sharon chuckled. "I am your aunt, I guess. I'm your mom's sister." Chase's eyes rounded and he looked at me. I nodded and his jaw almost hit the floor. He made a long, high pitched, "WHAAAAAAT?" He looked quickly between us, seeming to get it. I shook my head at his goofy behavior. "Didn't you have to do something?" Sharon asked, in mock remembrance. It hit him then. He turned and bolted back up the stairs.

Sharon laughed and I just felt slightly embarrassed. "He's…uh, well, he's a work-in-progress," I said, sheepishly.

"Don't worry, I totally get it. If you don't mind me asking, where's his father?" she asked, curiously. "Are you two married?"

"Um…his father passed away. It was a car accident shortly before Chase was born," I lied. Her expression instantly turned into realization and then into sympathy. She exhaled and gave a nervous chuckle. "Wow, I'm so sorry, I had no idea," she quickly apologized.

"Oh, no, it's okay. It was a long time ago," I waved it away, adjusted Lizzie so she could sit better on my lap, her back against my front. Her fist was in her mouth and the gnawing sounds were a little lighter than before. Sharon seemed like a nice girl. She couldn't be too much older than me, maybe just a year or two. That's a bit sickening, though. While her mother was waiting up taking care of a baby, her father was sleeping with _my_ mother.

Why wouldn't anyone ever mention it? Now I know why I got so much money in my aunt's will. She wasn't close much with my mother but she was close with me. I guess she felt sorry about what had happened and figured I deserved a little compensation in case it all went bad. "I, um….I read some of your articles," her bobbed slowly as she talked. "They're really good. You write a lot about vigilantes."

"Yeah…they mean a lot to me—and the people of this city. They're a whole new level of hope here," I nodded.

"Why did you quit writing then?" she inquired.

I paused. Why did I quit? Oh, yeah. "Ben Urich was like a father to me—we worked together. He was a great teacher. After he passed last year, I just couldn't go back to the office. There was too much history there for me."

"Oh…I'm sorry."

"Thanks. So, what do _you_ do?" I asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible. I bounced Lizzie on my knees lightly. Her gnawing sounds went up and down in pitch with every bounce. "I work in government—more specific would be classified, so…" she shrugged apologetically. "But, um, it's a good job. I get to help people with a healthy dose of field _and_ office work."

"That's always good," I chuckled lightly. "My job keeps me indoors all day."

"I actually love the idea of your job. It's a great place you have here, Alison."

"Thank you. I think your job would probably better fit me, too. At least I would get to see the outside every once and a while." We both laughed a little at that. She nodded in agreement and took a drink from her mug. I did the same, finding my throat too dry to continue. She sat her mug back down on the table a second later. "Maybe we should switch," she joked, with a smile.

I smiled back lightly with a nod, setting down my mug. "Yeah, maybe."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I was fuming. It can't be true. It just can't be. I stomped up the stairs to the law firm. At 1:30 in the morning. Ten minutes ago I got a call I never thought I'd hear. Words I never thought would come out of Karen's mouth. I dressed and then practically ran here. I walked down the hall to the law firm. Ten feet away I could see the broken glass on the ground at the base of the door. I huffed and then walked to it.

I stepped inside, crunching glass. Karen and Foggy were not too far inside. I glanced to my right and saw him. For the first time in eight years. That's how long it's been since I've seen him in person. I've always just heard of his failures. He sat on a chair, probably drunk. He'd have to be to do this.

I went to Karen. "Are you okay?" She looked shaken. She was here with Foggy, working on the Castle case when he broke in. She called me, per his request. "Did he touch you?" She looked at me, horror stricken a second. She shook it off and then said, "No." I looked to Foggy. He gave me a reassuring nod. I'm assuming Matt's not here.

I turned around. "Keith," I spit out venomously. "What…on God's holy earth…are you doing here?" I tried to rein in my anger, but it wasn't working too well. He looked up at me. He looks older…but still the same. Still untrustworthy. Still rotten. "Dani Dylan," he said, like this was this first time we're meeting. "No wonder I couldn't find you, you changed you name-"

"Darn right, I did!" I took a step closer. "And it wasn't the first time. You get one more chance to answer me before I call the cops."

He stared at me. "How's Andy?"

"Oh, my-" I squeezed my lips shut and put my hands on my hips. I looked down at my feet and tried to regain my composure. I looked back up. "Seriously? Seriously, you wanna do this now? Right now? Really? Gosh!" I looked around the room. "You've got some nerve. You vanish for eight years, leaving us to pay _your_ debts-"

"You didn't-"

"Oh, right! It was that or die, _Keith_! You can't show up here, I don't care what the reason was for."

"I needed to get your attention."

"By breaking into my friends' law firm in the middle of the night? Well, you've got my attention," I mocked. "So…what do you want?" I gritted my teeth. He looked around and I sighed in frustration. I rubbed my face, wanting to scream. I do not need this right now. Of all the times in the world, he chooses now to come back.

"I need your help," he said.

"No!" I shook my head. "No, I've helped you enough. And I don't have any money. I spent it all on you last year!"

"I don't want your money!" he yelled. I squeezed my fists at my sides. "I don't need a bank account…I need a PI."

"Well, I'll be happy to give you a list-"

"No. I need you," he said, then dropped his voice, "it has to be you." What does that mean? I looked at him, shocked and bewildered. He looked up at me. "I did keep track of you two. I lost you once you joined that group. That's how I know…" he sighed, "that you're my only hope."

"For what…getting a good lap dance around here?"

"No! Ellie, will you just listen to me, a minute?"

"Don't EVER call me that! You lost that right when you left us."

"Fine. I need you to find my daughter," he said. I stepped back. What? I'm his only daughter…aren't I? I shook my head. "Her name is Carly," he continued. I bit my lip, shaking my head. No. No, this wasn't happening. "She's nine. She was taken from our apartment last night."

"'Our'?" I sighed.

"My wife and I," he said it timidly. And I know exactly why. Because all I want to do is rip his head off and throw it to the wolves. "We live in D.C., she's the DA." How ironic.

"Well, good. Then maybe someone will prosecute you when you decide to abandon them."

"No, it's not like that-"

"Don't. Okay? I know you've been looking for me, long before this. That _othe_ r PI you talked to…? She's a friend of mine," I said. "I don't want to hear your sob story, okay? About how you found some new chick, because the last two wives weren't good enough. I don't want to hear about your new family, or how you think you've changed. Men like you don't change. They just manipulate until they get caught or they're dead." I stared at him until he looked away. "You want to find your daughter? Call the cops."

"I can't, the police can't be involved. That's what he said."

"Who? Who said it? The man who took her?"

He nodded and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and then held it out to me. I looked at it and then him. I sighed and ripped it from his hands, like I was afraid he might bite. I opened it and read it:

 _If you want to see your daughter alive, find Dani Dylan. She is to come alone to the docks; she knows the place. No cops or Carly's dead. You have twenty-four hours.  
-B. Hills_

"I didn't even know who you were," Keith said, as I lowered the note. "Not until I saw you."

"Hills? Really?" I asked. "You know who that is, right? You know who took her."

"I know. You have six hours left."

"You couldn't have lead with that?" I scoffed and then opened the door. I stepped back and motioned for him to walk through it. He stood, looking slightly panicked. "Please. You have to find her," he said. "He'll kill her."

"Oh…I know he will. Now go…before I change my mind," I ruefully said, not looking at him. He walked toward the door and then stopped in front of me. I looked at him. He looked about to speak but didn't know what to say. "Don't thank me," I said. "I traveled fifteen hundred miles to see you. Begged you to want me, but you didn't want to. This is for her, and you better not mess this one up, like you did the last three."

He nodded, looking down. I saw the regret in his eyes and chose to ignore it. I looked away as he walked out. I took a step, crunching glass. "And, Keith," I called. He stopped just outside the door and turned, slightly hopeful. "I expect this law firm to receive a check for this," I kicked the glass with the tip of my shoe. He nodded and then vanished.

I turned around to Karen and Foggy. They looked shocked and sorry for me at the same time. "Karen, can you get a dust pan?" I asked. She quickly nodded and then left to go get one. Foggy stepped closer. "You're not going alone are you?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I have no choice."

"What about Matt?"

"What about him?" I snapped. I sighed realizing my tone. "Sorry. Just…we're not…ugh. We're going through a rough patch, okay? Just don't tell him."

"Why not?"

"My family, my problem."


	20. Whitness

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I knew the exact place on the docks the note was referring to. The same place where I first saw his true colors. The same place where Matt and I got our butts kicked by Nobu. And Fisk. I sighed, the memories of that night flooding in as I walked through the front door. I walked up to the second floor. It looked pretty well near the same.

The large open cement room with a few creates here and there. Guess that's standard for an abandoned building. I sighed. Part of me wants to feel bad for going all 'Jessica Jones' on Keith. But the other part knows that he deserves much worse than that. I thought I was done with him, I thought I was done with those feelings. But I guess it's true what they say: no matter how much of a woman you become, a broken girl is still a broken girl.

That's the part that angers me the most. That this whole thing is drugging up the past, making me feel all that nonsense that I swore I'd never feel again. I glanced to my left and stopped. The window that Matt had jumped out of when I told him to go was still broken. "Well, well, well." I heard a clap with each 'well'. I rolled my eyes and looked to my left, my body following.

Ben walked out into the middle of the room. He stopped, sliding his hands into his pants pockets. He was dressed in a black suit, as if he were still working for Fisk. "I see you got the note," he said. "Have a nice conversation with our old man? I know how much you love him."

"Where's the girl?" I asked sternly. I don't have time for, nor do I want to, play his games. He looked me over, raising an eyebrow. I wore street clothes: jeans, shirt and hoodie. No weapon. That he could see. The feel of my gun's cold metal at the small of my back gave me an empowered feeling. It felt good. Safe.

"Oh, straight to business, I see. Well, it appears Ward was successful. You're welcome, by the way." I clenched my fists at my sides. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that a touchy subject?"

"Give me the girl."

"She has a name you know. It's _Carly_ ," he taunted. "Imagine my surprise when I learned dear old daddy had settled down with a new woman. There's another girl, you know. She's four. Her name's Stephanie."

"Just stop!" I said. "What do you want with me?"

"I just want you dead," he shrugged. He said it like it was nothing. Like it was common knowledge and everyone wanted the same thing. Two men came in through a side door, dragging the girl. Her hands were tied in front of her. "So," Ben said. "You know how this works, you for her. Come on, I got places to be." Another five men walked in and stood guard around Ben and his hostage.

"Yeah, a grave."

He chuckled. "Left myself open for that one." He walked toward Carly, and my hand itched to move. It wanted the gun, to shoot him. I ignored it. If I shoot too soon, she could die. And I will _not_ have her caught in the crossfire. I have other plans for that. I watched intently, my trigger finger getting itchy.

"Which will it be?" he asked, high on himself, thinking he's won. "Are you still a hero, sis?" I looked around, pretending to debate it. I put my left hand on my hip and sighed very overdramatically. "Okay," I huffed. "Congratulations, Ben-" My eyes locked onto his. He was smirking. But I saw it in his eyes…he's lost. "-You won." I reached behind me for my gun, as gunshots filled my ears. Ah, I sighed. The Barrett M82 .50cal. Music to my ears.

Bullets started tearing through bodies before I had my gun out. I know…the gun is a bit overdramatic. And I know, it's a long range rifle. Not meant for shooting someone forty feet away. But, hey…beggars can't be choosers. And Ben pushed my hand. The two men holding Carly dropped dead, creating an ocean of blood. The other men pulled out their guns and began looking for the shooter.

I walked forward, sliding a bullet into the chamber. A guy saw me coming and pointed his gun at me. I pulled the trigger, ripping into his chest. Another bullet hit him and he hit the deck. I ran to Carly, ducking as to not get hit with a stray bullet. I grabbed her and pulled her a few feet away.

I got on one knee and then started untying her hands. She was terrified, starting to cry. I hushed her. "I'm on your side," I said. Then I realized I was talking to a nine year old. I shook my head. "Your dad sent me. I'm taking you home." She nodded, pouting. I was silently counting the bullets from the more superior gun. I know for a fact that that gun holds ten rounds. And it just filled it's quota.

Ben and three men were still breathing. They were hiding behind crates and posts. They took the silence as a chance to step out and fire back. So did I. While they were shooting at the ceiling, I pushed Carly behind a crate and then stood. I walked out into the middle. I shot at the men. They quickly turned, shooting at me.

I took cover as best I could. I waited until I heard each one of their guns click. And I knew they were out. Right as I stood to shoot, the big gun fired back up and blew them to pieces. Once it stopped, I whistled, impressed. They were just bloody bodies on the ground. One was still moving. I sighed.

I saw movement out of my eye and looked that way. Alison was climbing down from the rafters, the rifle dangling from her back. Her feet hit the floor and she walked over to me. She was wearing my old S.H.I.E.L.D. mission suit; Shadow. And she was to be called as such. I didn't want Ben seeing her and then getting away. I don't need another Ward on my hands.

I looked back at the ground. The body that was moving belonged to Ben. He had two bullet holes in his back. He was pulling himself across the floor, trying to get away. I looked at Alison. "She's over there," I nodded with my head. "Nice shooting, by the way. Remind me to thank Frank."

"Yeah, just don't tell him I was the one shooting it," she scoffed. Then she turned and walked over to Carly. I just stood there, watching Ben try to pull himself across the ground. I glanced over at Alison as she led Carly out of the building. I walked up to Ben, stepping over the other bodies. I walked up beside him and he froze.

"I hope you know you deserve this," I said. "This isn't the justice you'd receive in a court of law, and this isn't me…enacting revenge." I paused and realized what I was saying. "This is me dealing with a problem that should've been dealt with months ago. This is me handing down your punishment," I smiled to myself. My finger found it's place on the trigger. My arm raised and I aimed at his head.

Time seemed to freeze and all I could hear was me breathing. Am I doing this? Am I really going through with this? And if I do…does it make me the person Ben said I'd become? The person he thinks I am. I think I've spent too much time with Frank. This isn't right, and I know it. If Matt knew what I was about to- I shook my head. No. Matt's not here.

He doesn't get a say. I took a step forward, reality crashing back in on me. I thought of why I was doing this, and I knew in that instance…this wasn't necessary. It was what I wanted. I raised the gun slightly. My finger tightened around the trigger. "Bang."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Every vein in my body pulsed, every nerve in my skin was over sensitive, and my stomach was one giant knot. To say I was nervous was an understatement. The DA insisted I be called as a witness to at least say what happened with the Irish, and maybe even what happened at the hospital. So therefore I must testify in court. And today was my turn to take the stand. A cop escorted me into the courtroom.

All eyes from the gallery and the jury were on me.

But my eyes went straight to the Nelson and Murdock table—sans the Murdock portion. Dani sat in his place. Just past her and Foggy and Karen, was Frank. I kept my eyes as forward as possible as I started up toward the stand. Reyes looked all too pleased with herself at her table to my left as I passed. After I swore in, I took a seat on the witness stand, to the right of the judge. I'd never really been in a courtroom before.

My mom didn't even get a trial. She went straight to prison. I guess it was to keep it under the government's hat at the time. "The opposing counsel may question the witness," the judge said. Reyes stood, straightening her suit jacket, and took steps forward toward the stand. "Thank you, your honor," she nodded once, before settling her eyes on me. "Will you please state your name for record of the court?"

I inhaled. "Alison Fletcher."

"Miss Fletcher, when did you first meet or hear of Frank Castle?" Reyes asked, standing a few feet from the stand with her hands folded in front of her. Remember what you practiced. _Stay calm, focus, keep your eyes on the person talking, and just answer the questions_. "About eight months ago," I answered, calmly.

"And what exactly was the reasoning for this meeting?" she inquired.

Here we go. "I own a Café, Madam DA. Many customers come and go every day. He was just another customer on a very, very busy day."

She eyed me a moment. "Was he alone?"

"No," I shook my head a little.

"Would you please tell us who was with him, Miss Fletcher?" I inwardly sighed. Her voice was already starting to grate on my nerves. I stole a quick glance left. Foggy and Dani both seemed interested in what I was saying. Dani gave a firm nod and I quickly looked back to Reyes. "His wife and two children were with him," I answered.

"And that was the last time you saw him before the incident at the hospital?" she asked, raising her chin slightly. The look on her face told me she was trying to get me to say more than a couple one-liners. But that was all she was going to get from me. I exhaled, "No."

"No? So you saw him after that?" she acted like this was news to her.

I nodded. "Yes. He came to my Café a few days before that."

"And you didn't think to tell anyone where he was?"

My eyes narrowed. "I didn't know who he was—and neither did you at that point." She nodded, like she expected that, taking steps to the right. Reyes was beginning to make a slow loop of a pace while she talked. I locked my fingers together in my lap to hold them still while I waited for the next question. "After your encounter at the hospital, why didn't you report it then?" she questioned.

Everything I've said has been true so far. Here's where I mess that up. "I didn't know it was him, at the hospital. I found out later."

"You never saw his face?" she pushed.

I shook my head. "No." My eyes flickered left. The only person sitting at the defendant's table who could possibly know that I was lying was Frank. He was watching me closely from his seat at the far end of the table. I moved my eyes back to Reyes. She stopped in front of the witness stand, in her previous position. "Let's go to the night at the carousel. Please, tell us all what happened that night," she said, practically radiating arrogance.

I nearly rolled my eyes, but I caught myself just in time. I took a deep breath and sat up a little bit in the chair before answering. "Well, I went to the park to clear my head," I was just repeating what I'd said in my statement. "I was walking by the carousel when I saw Frank Castle fighting with the Irish mob members."

Reyes hummed. "What led you to be taken along with Mr. Castle?"

"I was an innocent civilian, they needed leverage—I guess I just fit," I lied, keeping my tone even.

"Well, it worked, didn't it? Using you as leverage? Why is that, Miss Fletcher?" she started, lecherously. "Frank Castle has killed many people single handedly, sometimes in very brutal, grotesque ways—and he even opened fire in a hospital. Why would a man like that give in so easily at the sight of you in chains?"

"Objection," Foggy stood. "That was an inappropriate question."

"Overruled. I'll allow it," the judge decided. Foggy sat back down in his chair with a huff. Reyes was practically smirking. She knew more about what was being said than she was letting on, I just couldn't tell exactly how much. I clenched my jaw, returning her stare—only mine was steeled. "My apologies. Let me rephrase," Reyes spoke up. "Why were you _leverage_ at all?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask the _defendant_ about that, but it might be because I was innocent," I raised one shoulder in a half shrug, my tone subtly mocking.

Her lips curved up into a knowing smile as she stared at me with slightly narrowed eyes, almost triumphantly. Like she was just waiting to sink me with her ace in the hole. My heart was softly thumping in my ears, banging against my rib cage, and I took a deep breath. " _You_ believe that Frank Castle is a good man, correct?" she asked, rhetorically.

I nodded a little, thinking. "I believe there's good _in_ him, yes."

"What has he done to suggest that to you?" There it is. The second question that is obviously not about the case. I sighed, trying to act like it didn't bother be. "For one, I'm not dead yet," I answered, tiredly. "I've witnessed the hospital incident—along with many others—and none of us have been harmed."

She looked slightly annoyed by my answer. This was pretty much going nowhere for her, and yet for some reason she decided to keep asking questions. "What would you say your relationship is with Mr. Castle?" she prodded.

I leaned into the back of the chair a bit. What would I say it was like? You mean, if I wasn't here in this courtroom? _I'm not telling you that, lady_. Foggy stood. "Objection—leading the witness," he claimed. The judge took a second to respond. "Sustained, her relationship with the defendant is irrelevant," she decided.

"Of course, your honor," she nodded once to the judge, and then turned back to me, taking a step forward. "Let me be more clear. Have you had intercourse with the defendant?"

I scoffed, angered by the question. " _No_."

Though, it's not off the table for her, I'm sure. "Has he touched you in any way that was unprofessional or made you feel uncomfortable?" There it is again. I was hoping she wouldn't ask that. I stared at her for a moment—more like glared—trying to calm myself in my head. It wasn't working. "Why don't you come a little closer and ask that again?" I suggested, with a warning tone.

"Are you asking me to repeat the question, Miss Fletcher?" Reyes asked, patronizingly, taunting.

I inhaled, clenching my jaw. "No. He hasn't touched me at all—not that it's relevant to the trial."

"Oh, it's extremely relevant," she disagreed. "There are no relatives to attest to anything in this trial. But that doesn't mean that there isn't a close friend…or even a possible girlfriend? Either way, said spouse could know things that _are_ relevant to this trial, Miss Fletcher."

"What are you insinuating, Ms. Reyes?" the judge asked, a perplexed look on her face.

"I'm simply stating that it's very coincidental that the same person met the defendant eight months before this trial, was involved in the hospital shooting, and was _also_ kidnapped and tortured with him by the Irish mob," Reyes explained, calmly. "It just all seems a little too coincidental for someone who was just an innocent bystander," she turned on me, determined. "It begs the question—what really is your involvement with Mr. Castle?"

"Hell's Kitchen is a small place," I answered, biting my tongue. "We're all bound to run into the same people from time to time, don't you think?"

"Not in this capacity, no. Maybe you'd been helping him the whole time? Aiding him in his mission to kill as many people as possible across the city," she hypothesized. "Or maybe you were an innocent insect that just happened to fly a bit too close to the fire and became engulfed in the flames. Which is it, Miss Fletcher?"

"Are you insinuating that _I_ killed people as well?" I raised an eyebrow.

She crossed her hands in front of her. "I don't know. Did you?"

"Oh, come on. All I did was serve coffee. I own a Café- that's what I do," I defended, trying to stay as calm seeming as possible. Of course, I was lying the whole way. I exhaled and glanced over at Dani and Foggy. They were talking quietly about something, leaned in close to each other, obviously arguing. My eyes flickered over to Frank. His expression was apologetic, softened. A part of me wanted to just hop the bench.

But I knew that would only make matters worse. So I looked back at Reyes. " _All_ you did was serve coffee? First responders at the cemetery claim you were 'inconsolable' after they'd taken Mr. Castle to the hospital and you were being checked by EMTs. Does that sound like just someone that served him coffee?" she questioned, her venom starting to slip into her voice a bit.

I glared. "After what happened—after what the Irish lunatics that kidnapped us made me _watch_ —you _really_ think I wouldn't be upset? I was shaken from the events of the night."

"What _exactly_ did they make you watch, Miss Fletcher?" she inquired.

"Exactly what happens during torture. They beat him, they used a _power drill_ as an interrogation tactic," I explained, starting to sound a little more agitated than I wanted. "It was grotesque and honestly _very_ disturbing."

She adjusted her stance. "And how did that make you feel, to see him hurt like that?"

"Mortified," I answered, simply. Normally that would be enough. But this witch couldn't let an unflushed toilet go. "You were mortified. But _why_? If you had no attachment to him, his involvement specifically in the torture wouldn't be a factor. And yet, you were _mortified_ —to use your own word," Reyes went on.

"Yes, because I have medical knowledge that I'm pretty sure extends past most of the people in this courtroom," I explained, throwing it right back in her face. "I knew exactly what was going on _biologically_ , and it made me feel sick."

"Then why not go get help, once you'd escaped? Why stay there with the defendant until help came to you?" she questioned.

I sighed. "He was bleeding out-"

"So why didn't you get help, Miss Fletcher?" she persisted.

"Because he would probably die there alone before I could get back," I said, angry.

She raised an eyebrow lightly. "And him dying alone troubles you?"

"Objection, your honor," Foggy stood, saying the words tiredly. "She's not even talking about the case anymore."

"Overruled. Answer the question," the judge said, looking to me. I inhaled then exhaled, and repeated the process for a second. This couldn't be happening. There had to be a way out of this, but nothing Foggy was doing was working. What was I even supposed to say? I looked over at Frank. His eyes were on me. The look on his face told me he was prompting me to lie. Begging me, more like.

It was pleading. _Stick to the script_. But I'd lied so much already. How much longer before there are actual holes in my story that the DA exploits? It's only a matter of time. And with the lack of help from Nelson and Murdock, I was on my own. I sucked in a sharp breath.

"Frank Castle has killed people, sure. But have you ever stopped to ask why? I thought what everyone thought—that he was mentally ill," I answered. "Until I found out recently what had _actually_ happened. So, yeah, it troubled me. Because something happened to _cause_ him to be like this. He wasn't born that way. And death isn't what someone like that needs."

"You said _thought_. Does that mean you think differently now?"

I set myself up for that one. _Good job, Alison_. I sighed. " _Yes_ ," I replied, tiredly. "Knowing the truth, I can assure you that he's not insane."

"You say you don't know him, and yet every time you've mentioned him you act as if you've known him all your life," she pointed out. "Nothing is adding up, Miss Fletcher. You swore an oath to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. So tell the truth. Are you romantically involved with Frank Castle?" She stared at me with a slightly angry expression. Like she was annoyed that she'd had to ask me questions so many times just to get me here.

It was a blatant, straight forward attempt to get me to talk. And it worked. I was so full of anger and annoyance that I couldn't stop myself before the words slipped out. "You know what? Yes, I am. I'm in love with Frank Castle. I'm sorry; does that _offend_ you, DA Reyes? Does it offend you that someone found something worth _saving_ in a mess that you're trying to cover up? Nothing you say today could _ever_ change my mind, so if I were you, I'd stop talking."

My voice was just before a shout. The observers in the gallery were restless, murmuring loudly with gasps and unrest. The judge quickly slammed her wooden mallet on the desk in front of her. "Order! Settle down," she called. Everyone slowly eased up, quieting down. Reyes looked triumphant, smirking at me. "That's all, your honor," she said, washing her hands of it. She walked over and sat at her table.

The judge looked to Dani and Foggy. "Does the defense wish to ask the witness any questions?"

Foggy stood. "Um, no, your honor. No further questions." Part of me was relieved, and the rest of me knew that I just royally messed up. "The witness is excused," the judge said, hitting the desk with her mallet once. The cop that escorted me in came over to the stand as I stood. This was not good. This was far from it. Reyes didn't even look up at me as I passed. Foggy was rubbing the bridge of his nose.

I looked father left in a quick glance. Dani was saying something toward Frank to her right, but he was paying attention to me. His eyes followed me until I finally looked away and let the cop escort me out of the courtroom. I stepped outside and the door shut behind me. It suddenly washed over me in a crushing heat. What have I done?

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I pulled into the parking lot at the park, Carly in the seat next to me. I parked near the back, killing the engine. I opened my door and got out. I stood, looking around. He's not here yet. I sighed as the passenger door opened. I walked to the trunk and leaned against it. Carly walked around to the back of the car. She looked around, then up at me. "Why are we here?"

"To give you back to your dad," I sighed. "He should be here soon."

"Why won't you tell me who you are?" she asked. I've been dodging that question for the last twelve hours. "Who was the man that took me? Why did he?"

"Okay." I looked down at her. Her need to know everything was starting to annoy me. I sighed, realizing just how much we look alike. "Because, okay? Sometimes…sometimes things happen that we can't explain. That's…just how life goes." A car pulled in the parking lot and I saw Keith in the driver's seat. "Oh thank goodness." I pushed off the car and crossed my arms, watching him park across from us.

He got out of the car, looking relieved to see Carly alive. "Daddy!" she screamed, running toward him. He got down to her level, catching her as she hugged him. I rolled my eyes, repositioning. I glanced around the parking lot, sliding my hands into my back pockets. "Okay," I sighed.

I turned and walked back to the driver's seat. I opened the door and got in. I jammed the key in the ignition, starting it. Why is this getting to me? Why am I letting it? I've moved on, this shouldn't be affecting me. I closed my eyes and let out a small, controlled breath. It's just another client, another case. I reopened them and then threw it in reverse.


	21. A Day in Court

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

This was utterly and completely, certifiably pathetic. I've stooped to a new low. I was sitting on a closed toilet lid in a stall of the women's bathroom at the courthouse, ear buds in and an iPad in my lap. Except I wasn't watching some new realty show just released on Netflix. I was watching the trial. How, you ask? Dani was wearing a special pair of glasses adorned with a hidden camera. Now I could see and hear what was going on.

Legally this shouldn't even be happening. We could get in serious trouble for this. But I was past the point of caring. I passed that milestone weeks ago. Colonel Shoonover had just been sworn in. He served with Frank in the Military. From what I understood, he was meant to be a character witness or something. Foggy stood up from the table and stepped toward the stand. "Colonel, how long have you known the defendant?" he asked.

"I'd say the better part of a decade," the Colonel answered. "Most of his career in the Marine Corps."

"So you're familiar with his service in the Middle East? Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iran?"

The Colonel nodded. "Yes. Very familiar."

I exhaled and turned slightly on the toilet, leaning back to prop my crossed ankles on the small storage container mounted on the side of the stall. "I'm wondering if you could tell us how Lieutenant Frank Castle won the Navy Cross?" Foggy prompted.

"Due to the nature of that mission, you'll have to understand that precise circumstances are classified," the Colonel replied, calmly. Foggy paused and turned to look back at the table. Dani turned her head just enough for me to see Karen in the shot. Karen shrugged slightly and Foggy turned back to the Colonel. I heard Dani sigh. "How about the part that's not?" Foggy reasoned.

"Lieutenant Frank Castle was part of a small team that was conducting a small target reconnaissance in the vicinity of the Hindu-Kush. Mission became compromised, taking enemy contact on three sides. Lieutenant Castle wanted to abort, said the mission was a bust, pulling the plug would save lives. Officer in charge said no," Colonel Shoonover recounted.

"Why was that?" Foggy inquired.

The Colonel replied, "Maybe he wanted more medals on his chest—doesn't matter. Either way, Frank was right. They were cut off, boxed into a canyon."

"And what happened next?" Foggy prompted.

I was practically chewing a hole through my lower lip—again. This was ridiculous. I should be seeing this from the courtroom. But, no, I'm in a women's bathroom watching it from an iPad. Thanks to the DA, and maybe even my big mouth, this is as good as it gets. This better not go too much longer because my butt is starting to get sore from sitting on this stupid toilet.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"In the first hour, the officer in charge of that mission got his arm blown off," the Colonel continued. I crossed my arms and leaned back, intently listening to the war story. Those types of things have always fascinated me, but at the moment, I was more interested in learning more about Frank. Was he always a 'punisher', of sorts?

"So Lieutenant Castle assumed command. His only goal was to get his men out alive. The enemy had set up an ambush at the only LZ that would accommodate one of our birds."

"Sorry, Colonel…" Foggy said, probing him to explain more.

"LZ is a landing zone that can accommodate a helicopter. So the enemy…they'd blocked this landing zone knowing it was the only way the team had to get out alive. All they had to do was wait. Knew that Frank's team would come to them."

"Fish in a barrel."

"So to speak. Only, fish don't know they're going to die. These men did," the Colonel said. "Frank went to the LZ…all by himself; to draw them away."

"Why didn't he order one of his men to do it? He certainly could've?"

He shook his head, looking at Frank. "Not his style. So, the men hear the firefight break out…all Hell breaks loose. Frank against God knows how many. And then there was silence. The team thinks, 'That's it, Frank's dead. And we're next'. The next sound they hear is the Helios, the helicopters. They get to the landing zone, you know what they see? Frank Castle, standing there grinning. Thirty-two enemies surrounding him, all dead."

The crowd started to murmur. But the Colonel continued. "He cleared that entire LZ all by himself."

"How?" Foggy asked. Well. What do you know. Frank was The Punisher loooong before the title. I'm not surprised. I was a killer long before someone stuck a gun in my hand.

"By being Frank Castle."

"And his men survived?"

"All of 'em. Including the idiot officer who got 'em trapped in the first place."

"If you had to sum up Frank Castle, how would you do it?"

"I would say, Frank Castle is a man who would gladly give up his life to keep others safe."

"And the crimes he's accused of today? Could the man you knew have committed them?"

"Absolutely not. The Lieutenant Frank Castle that I knew was a hero; a man who deserves our respect. And our gratitude. Not the same man."

"Thank you, Sir," Foggy said. "No more questions your Honor." Foggy came and sat down next to me. He looked at me questioningly. I nodded and he sighed with relief. Next, the DA stepped up. I rolled my eyes, wondering what kind of clown show she'd turn this into.

"I'd like to personally thank you for your service to this country, Colonel," she said, although I don't think she meant it. "My father served in Vietnam. You know what he told me about medals?" No, but I'm sure you're going to tell us.

"No, Ma'am," the Colonel said.

"He said the only people who really know what happened…are the ones that were there. You told a nice story, Colonel. But how can we know that it…happened the way you described." I threw my head back. You've got to be kidding me. Foggy back handed my arm and I sat up. I gave him a 'what for' look as I readjusted my glasses. He shook his head and I turned back to the liar, with a sigh of annoyance.

"Well, perhaps I wasn't clear," the Colonel said. "I was there, Ma'am. That officer that didn't listen to Frank, got his men trapped…you're looking at him." The court was really talking, now. "Believe me when I tell you, I thank God EVERY day that I only lost my arm. That man saved my life, and the lives of his entire team. If it was up to me, he'd have a medal of honor hanging around his neck."

Wow. It's a cold day in Hell, for her. "No further questions at this time, your Honor." She promptly sat down with her assistant. Well, that worked in our favor. I straightened my suit jacket. Something Foggy made me wear. Said I had to to be next to him in a court room. So…here I am…pant suit and all. I don't know how people where this on a daily basis.

I looked over at the others. Frank was sitting too far back so I couldn't see him. Foggy and Karen were leaned close to each other. "Matt couldn't have done it better," she said. I leaned into their posy and said, "I'll drink to that one." They smiled and quietly chuckled. The rest of the session went on as normal.

And then Foggy brought out his 'expert' medical doctor guy. Then things got boring, and I was reminded why I didn't become a lawyer. About two minutes into it, I sat the glasses on the table, pointed at the stand. I then slid down into my chair, until my head hit the back of it. I know this seems childish, but I don't care. This is all my brain can handle right now.

After everything this week…I'm realizing that it's my new 'worst week of my life'. And I can't even begin to describe how annoying all this is. I don't want to be here. I want to be home, A.K.A. Alison's. I want to be camped out on the couch, wearing my plaid PJ pants (the ones that the fly always comes undone in the wash and I forget to re button it), with a bowl of air pop drowned in butter and salt, watching something with a lot of guns and violence and curse words.

Why is that so hard? Can't I just drown out the world, like really drown it out (not like what I'm doing right now to Foggy), but to the point where I forget I exist. Where, in my head, for a moment I'm someone else. Is that too much to ask for? I sigh and cross my arms. Karen glanced at me, giving me yet another weird look. I looked over at her when she was looking at Frank. I stuck my tongue out at her and then was back to my normal position by the time she looked back. I feel much better.

"Frank Castle's been through Hell," the med guy said. Yeah, so have I. But you don't see me running around-…Oh.

"Thank you," Foggy said.

"YOU KILLED MY DAD!" Everyone jumped and looked toward the voice. A younger man was standing up, one the verge of tears. A woman stood next to him and tried to console him. "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH, YOU KILLED HIM!" I grabbed the glasses and pointed them that way. Like people were caring to notice.

I whipped around the other way, looking at Frank. His face was sad and serious at the same time. He turned back around, the guy still shouting as someone led him out. I could tell Frank was thinking. He was doing that thing. You know…'the thing'. It's that thing he does. Ha. I'm sorry. I had too. I'm in a mood, right now.

We all left the court room not too long after. I stood outside the building and tried calling Matt. It rang and rang. No answer. I hate it when people don't answer. Well…look at the bright side. At least I'm not dying. Oh, wait. That was four days ago. My bad. I don't know why, but I tried again. Same thing. I wanted to scream and throw the phone.

My world is falling apart and the man who supposedly loves me is nowhere to be found. I sighed and then went to find Foggy. I found him…and then was told to go talk to Frank. Like I want to do that. At least, not right now! Of course, Foggy doesn't know that. No one does. Well, okay, Alison does. But she still can't see him.

I begrudgingly went down there to see him. We need to get him to take the stand. And I have a feeling he'll say no. But, lucky for us, I'm not in the best of moods. So this might just go our way…if I don't open my big mouth and ruin it. I sat down in front of Frank, a table between us, just like before. We just sat there in silence.

I stared at him intently, trying to guess what he was thinking. Probably having to do with that guy in the court room, yelling about his dad. I know because that's what I'd be thinking about. I cleared my throat, intertwining my fingers in the table. His head stayed perched off to the side, but his eyes moved my way. "Hi."

He huffed, glancing around the room before settling on the table. "What do you want?" he looked at me.

"Ain't that a loaded question," I sighed. He looked like he couldn't tell if I was joking. "Dude, you are _way_ too serious." He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Okay, fine. Gosh! Look, I'm not having the best…" I hummed thinking. "Life, right now. I know you can relate, so…"

"What do you want?"

"Just…don't believe everything you hear on the news." He raised an eyebrow. "I'll be…on the front page for a while. But _none_ of it's true." I put my elbow on the table and then rested my chin on my fist. "I'm here to convince you to take the stand." He scoffed and looked away. "Look, just hear me out. This all goes back to that whole 'making sure you don't die' thing. I'm not a lawyer and neither are you…but I think we both know that what just happened in there, didn't help our case."

"You think so?"

"Oh, now _you_ want to be sarcastic," I scoffed and leaned back. I crossed my arms and looked at him. "You should know that I…uh, well, never mind. The point is, Alison saw everything that happened in that court room today." I saw the lights turn on behind his eyes. Like whoever lives up there just got home. "I need to make a mental note: 'lead with Alison'."

"What'd she say?"

"To take the stand, convince the people otherwise. You have been through soooooo much, and no one's heard your side. You know? Big whoop if you've got some know it all doc and a Colonel. They're not you, Frank. You and I, we're cut from the same cloth. And if I were in your position, I wouldn't go down without people knowing where I stood. And I know you feel the same way. Isn't that why you came to Alison in the first place? To get your story heard? Well…this is your shot, Frank. And it's your last one, at that."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I made my way out of the courthouse. It wasn't hard to spot Foggy halfway down the long front steps. He was pacing slowly on a step, nervously staring at his watch. Karen stood a little ways to his left on the same step, tapping her foot. I inhaled and started trotting down the steps. "Hey, Foggy," he turned toward me as I stopped a stair up. "Where's Dani?"

"Talking to your boyfriend," Foggy answered, tiredly, looking back down at his watch. I tilted my head in an expression at his words. "Should be back any second."

"Don't be like that," I shook my head.

He scoffed. "Like what?"

"Shhh, guys, here she comes," Karen quickly silenced us. I turned left. Sure enough, Dani was trotting down the steps to us from the side. "He'll take the stand," she said, arriving on the step above Karen's. She looked right at Foggy. "You're welcome."

"Are you serious?" Foggy asked, looking like he was hoping for it to be a joke. Dani nodded once and he turned away with a nervous huff. "Ugh! How did we even _get_ here?" he questioned, turning back toward Karen and Dani. "This guy's a murderer! He's killed sons and fathers- you heard that kid! _Why_ are we helping him?" I sighed, crossing my arms. Dani held up a hand toward me, telling me to stand down.

She turned to Foggy. "Foggy, this is the case of the century, okay? This is for _big boys_. So strap on your boots, hike up your drawers, and stop acting like a _baby_ ," she said, firm but calm. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "If Frank really was insane like you think he is, don't you think we should help?" Her eyes were slightly narrowed in a pointedly rhetoric expression.

Foggy groaned, but caved in. "Fine, yeah…one caveat, though. We get _Matt_ to do the questioning."

"Foggy," Karen put her hands on her hips.

"No, you're doing great," Dani shook her head. "We don't need Matt."

"Yes we do!" Foggy argued.

Dani looked to me. I raised an eyebrow. "Well, don't look at me," I shook my head, causing her to sigh heavily.

"Come on, Alison, Frank's _life_ hangs in the balance here. Do you really want mister _no-show_ to be calling the shots?" she questioned, her tone subtly annoyed. "Back me up! You know he can't be bothered to come here, anyway. What makes you think he'll show up now?"

I groaned in indecision. This is ridiculous. I looked between Foggy and Dani. "You know what I think? _We're losing_. We only have one shot at this trial. I don't like this idea anymore than you do, Dani—nor do I have the faith in Matt needed to believe he can make it here on time. But he's all we've got and, no offense Foggy, but I trust Matt a whole lot more to get this right with Frank taking the stand."

Dani was fuming, but I could tell she saw my point. She sighed. "Fine…I'll get him to come in."

"Want me to come with you?" I asked.

She shook her head, "No, thanks. I've got this."


	22. Broken Arrows

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

Since even before Mary died, I've been trying to call Matt and have him answer. And every time, without fail, I get his voice mail. You'd think he was at least getting the messages I'm leaving. He must know that I'm calling him. On one of those messages, I even apologized for snapping at him. And, still, nothing!

As much as I don't want to, I know that Alison and Foggy are right. We can't do this with Frank, alone. We can't save him. But Matt might be able to. If he'll come. I left the court house and went straight to Matt's. Therefore, I'm still stuck in heels and a pantsuit. Joy.

I walked up the stairs and to Matt's door. I knocked with a huff and then waited. Nothing. I knocked again and then dug in my pocket for my key. Most girlfriends would put the key to their boyfriend's house on a chain around their neck. I'm not most girlfriends. I had just gotten the key out when the door swung open. But it wasn't Matt who was greeting me. "Stick," I practically spit it out, shocked to see him here but not really.

"Have we met before?" he asked.

"The sound of disdain in my voice doesn't ring a bell?" I scoffed. "You're probably too old to remember."

"Ah. You're the naive one."

"I thought you said all of his girlfriends were naïve?"

"True," he nodded.

I rolled my eyes. "Is Matt here?" He turned and walked inside. I followed, closing the door. "What's your name?" he asked.

"What's yours?"

"Huh," he sighed. "I like you."

"Don't insult me like that." We stepped out into the main room. Stick continued, headed for the master. He rolled the door open saying, "You've got company." He turned and walked out into the living room. I stepped up to the door frame and looked in. Matt was just standing feet from the edge of the bed, Elektra laying in it. I crossed my arms and leaned into the door frame. I rolled my eyes and scoffed.

"Dani…" Matt said.

"Well, don't sound surprised to see me. After all, I've only called you a hundred times." I could tell he knew I was mad. And I was. I was livid. And, I was glad. When he thinks I'm mad, he starts to squirm. And I take more pleasure in that than I probably should.

"This isn't what it looks like-"

"No, I know, Matt. That's the one thing I know you _wouldn't_ do to me." I pushed off the door frame and then walked across the living room. "Dani, wait." I stopped and turned around. Matt was right behind me. "The next words out of your mouth better be the truth," I said, stopping him before he could speak. "Yeah, what happened to not lying, telling each other the truth? Or did that promise expire when she showed up?"

"No," he scoffed.

"Then what's your reason?" I crossed my arms. "Try to be as truthful as possible, Matt, I can't hear your heart beat." He clenched his jaw, slightly sliding it to the side. I heard Stick chuckle. I pointed at him, "You, shut up." I looked back at Matt.

"Can we talk about this another time?"

"Um…" I pretended to think and then gave a firm, "No." He looked annoyed. "I've been trying to talk to you for the last week, which has been the worst one in my life. Have you gotten any of my messages?"

"Yes, and I planned on calling you-"

"But, Elektra had something better in mind," I mocked. "Glad to know where I rank these days."

"Dani, what…what do you want me to say?"

"How about the reason why you felt you had to lie to me about Elektra? For starters."

"It's not like you tell me where you spend your nights."

"No, but when you ask, I answer. I don't avoid you for days on end because my ex showed up. I've told you things that, legally, I shouldn't have told you, but I did. Because you asked."

"You didn't tell me about what your brother said, when I asked."

"Oh, one time. I'm such a horrible person."

"You know-"

"Yeah, I do, Matt. And that's the problem. I know so much, it'd take a life time to tell you everything," I said. "And there are things that you wouldn't understand. You see the world in a way that I stopped seeing it when I was six. You think that evil's a choice, that people can change. And, yes…some people did make that choice. But…there are people who are born evil. And those are the ones that will keep killing. The ones who will always get out of jail, the ones you'll always be chasing if you don't end it." I stopped and let my words sink in. "If I told you _everything_ …Matt, you'd never want to look at me again."

"Is that what this is about?"

"No," I shook my head. "I don't care what you think of me, I'm past that."

"Really?" he asked unbelieving, putting his hands on his hips. I thought, confused. Then I had a crazy thought. "Don't tell me you're jealous," I said.

"Of what?" he asked.

"Of Frank." He scoffed like it was stupid. That only told me it wasn't. "I only told him that stuff about me because we're the same." He was shaking his head. "You'd know if you were ever around. Or in court. You know, representing the guy you dragged us into defending. That's why I came. We're about the lose this. Or, rather, Foggy is. You know what happens to Frank if we lose."

"I know."

"Then do something!"

He sighed, half rolling his eyes. Which is funny since he can't see anyway. "How's Alison?"

"Uh, devastated," I said like it was a dumb question. "And mad. At you."

"Me?"

"Yeah, we all are. For just dropping us." I looked around the room. Stick was sitting on the couch, a beer in hand. I continued to stare, my mind wondering. "Why is _he_ here?"

"I'm still working on that," Matt said. "There's a group in town." I looked at him. "They go by 'The Hand'. Have you…heard of them?" I looked back at Stick, directing my comment at him, "So that's why you're here." I sighed.

"You know them?" Matt asked.

"Remember that ninja I told you about? The one I killed a split second before he killed me?" I asked. Matt nodded. "He worked for The Hand. I'm more familiar with them than I'd like to be."

"You train with them?" Stick called, not looking at me.

"No," I rolled my eyes.

"Then who taught you to do that? With your heart."

"The same person who'd break you over their knee, if I asked," I said. "The Cavalry."

"No wonder you're so depressing."

"Because you're a ray of sunshine?" I asked sarcastically. I saw his lips turn up in a grin as I turned back to Matt. I sighed. "I don't care that you're doing stuff with Elektra. And I don't care that you were lying and sneaking around to do it." I paused and thought. "The week I _first_ met you…that was the worst week of my life…until now. That week my mother died, our house was repossessed, my father showed up and cleaned us out, Andy and I had to skip town because we had bill collectors up our butts. And I thought that was the worst, I thought 'there's no way it could get worse'.

"And then I was wrong. Before you left to begin your escapade with her, you said to call if I needed anything. That night, and subsequent nights, I called. I left messages, I came over. My life fell apart and all I wanted was to tell you so that you could give me one of your stupid speeches about hope and things getting better," I shrugged. My voice was getting that unsteady edge to it again. "But, I've already taken up too much of your time," I mocked. "Just don't be alarmed tomorrow when the city brands Angel a, uh…wanted felon."

"What?" Matt looked shocked and concerned at the same time. "What happened?"

"I thought you said you got my messages."

"I did. But nothing like that."

"The night we went to talk to Frank at the hospital, and you left, lying to my face…?"

"Yeah."

"I called you. Alison called you a dozen times, we both left messages."

"I checked, I never got any of that from either of you," he said. What? How is that even possible? He has no idea what happened. I got slightly angry, hurt even, that he didn't know what was happening to me, to my sister-in-law. "What happened…that night? Your…heart rate just went up." I didn't realize it had until he said something.

I quickly calmed it back down, masking it even though I wanted to slap him. "It was Ward," I spoke through clenched teeth.

"You found him? Here, in Hell's Kitchen?"

"No," I looked him in the eyes. "He found me." I saw the drop in his face. Everything was starting to come together in his mind. "That night, he found us and I called you for help."

"Who? Alison?"

"No…Mary." A hot tear landed on my wrist, my arms still firmly crossed. "The papers will say that Angel…brutally murdered the sister-in-law of the local PI who helped take down Fisk." My throat was burning because I was holding back my emotions. Not letting them take over. I looked at Matt through slightly blurred vision. He knew he'd messed up. His face was completely horror stricken, like he'd seen a ghost.

"Dani-"

"Ward strung her up on my living room wall and then proceeded to shoot her, with my own bow and arrows. You should go there, to my place. You'll have to go around the police tape, but you're used to that. The wall is…uh, covered in blood. And four feet from the desk there's a chair, and at the base you'll find more blood, mine. From me rubbing the rope on my wrists nearly to the bone trying to get free, as he took his time killing her, right in front of me." I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding. It came out choppy and unsure.

I glanced around, more tears escaping. I didn't want them to. But I was a fool to think I could get through this dry eyed. Matt stepped forward, slightly raising his arms. I know he wanted to hold me, console me. I stepped back and shook my head, wiping a tear with the end of my sleeve. He looked even more hurt, taking a step back.

"He put eight arrows in her," I half sobbed. I stopped and took a few breaths. I need to calm down. I looked up at Matt. He looked near tears. I looked away from him, knowing that'd just make matters worse. I looked to Stick, who'd seemed to have froze. Probably caught up in my sob story. "He finished with her," I swallowed, "put the gun to my head."

I looked back at Matt, who was crying now. "Alison showed up, took out his men. Shot him twice, but…Ward got away, again. Without her…we'd both have been killed that night. Both tied up…and clinging to the hope that you were coming." I didn't have to say that last part. I don't know what Mary was thinking that night. But I wanted him to hurt the way I did, to know just how royally he messed up. "I just signed the papers…a few days ago. I'm Lizzie's mom now."

I looked down. "She's going to grow up, not remembering either one of her parents…and it's my fault. I should've killed Ward when I had the chance. See, Matt? This is why I kill, why Frank kills. There are people that won't stop killing and hurting others until they're dead. That's why, when I find Ward, I'm putting two in his head. I don't care what you say."

"Dani-"

"Don't try and stop me, Matt, you know you can't," I said. Matt recoiled. I whipped my cheek. "Another example of an idiot we shouldn't have kept alive…Ben. Ward went to him, they struck a deal. Ben was free and Ward had all the info he needed. He knows everything…about you, me, Alison. Both men vanished after that night. But only one came back."

"What do you mean?" he looked afraid to ask.

"My father came to me, or actually…he broke into your law firm. He told Karen and Foggy he needed to find me. Turns out good old Dad is married and has two children. One of which had been kidnapped. By Ben." I sighed. "And I called you, and you didn't answer. So Alison went with me. We got the girl back and we stopped Ben."

"Dani," he sighed, closing his eyes.

"I put a bullet in his head. And there wasn't a choice, I did it because I wanted to."

"Now you sound like Frank."

"How many more times do I have to say it before you understand? I AM HIM! I always have been. I fell in love with you because of the way you see the world, because you don't want to take a life," I said. "You fell in love with me seeing the darkness and saying, 'I can change that'. And for a while, yeah, you did. Or so I thought. Now I'm just realizing…I lost myself while loving you." I whipped at my eyes. "While I love you and what we are, I…I don't even know who I am when I'm with you. And, I want to be me and still be with you. But I can tell, by the look on your face…that's not going to happen.

"I wanted to be like you, I really did. I wanted to stop killing. But…I don't recognize myself without it. And when I stop, Matt, people get hurt. And it's usually the ones I care about." He had a blank look on his face. "You know, Ward told me something. He said that he only took Mary…because he couldn't find _you_. Lizzie's one and both her parents are dead. That's on _your_ head, too." I turned, neither of us saying another word, and I left.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My foot tapped on the floor and I crossed my right leg over my left, trying to get it to stop. It didn't work. Today was the day. Frank was going to take the stand and I was finally allowed in the gallery. So I sat in the second row on the left side of the room. Thankfully, I was able to claim an aisle seat. I glanced around. There were a couple people with signs to hold up, even a few people wearing t-shirts for or against the Punisher.

Mostly against. I sighed and decided to face forward instead. The door to the courtroom opened and Matt walked in. Well, I'll be switched. He actually showed. Especially after what happened between Matt and Dani last night…I honestly didn't think he had the balls to show his face. He walked straight to the defendant's table. I watched as Dani instantly turned the other way and sat in the seat closest to Frank's old chair.

Karen sat to her left and Foggy to hers—putting a whole two people in between Dani and the next available seat. Matt folded up his walking stick and sat in the empty chair. Foggy and Matt looked to started talking about something. There was no way I could hear exactly what about from over here. Especially not with all these people talking. "Your honor, the defense would like to call Frank Castle to the stand," Matt said, standing.

"Bailiff, bring in the defendant, please," the Judge called. Here we go. _Stay calm, Alison. Your lip really cannot handle yet another blow_. The cops pulled open the door and the men started in with Frank, on either side of him. The gallery immediately erupted with boos and sounds of disapproval. _Really people?_ I sat up a little in my seat to see over the old lady sitting in front of me. Frank kept his eyes forward as the cops guided him toward the stand.

Since he was taking the stand, he was dressed in a suit jacket and slacks with a white button down—the complete opposite attire that I'm accustomed to seeing on him. But it was a nice change. He glanced at the lawyers as he passed by and I could just barely make out a nod from Dani. "Order! Order!" The judge hit the wood with her mallet twice and the gallery quieted down. I crossed my hands in my lap, interlocking my fingers.

The cops got Frank sitting on the stand and then shuffled away. But, I couldn't help but notice, one of the officers leaned in for a moment. He was obviously saying something to Frank. It left an uneasy feeling in my stomach. After he was sworn in, Frank stated his name and sat down. Matt stood and unfolded his walking stick. "Mr. Castle, you've been charged with multiple capital crimes," he began. "Been called a killer incapable of empathy _or_ remorse."

"Yeah…so I hear," Frank nodded a little, looking down.

"Frank- may I call you Frank?" Matt asked, leaning on the top of his stick. Frank paused, staring at Matt for a long moment. "Yeah," he finally agreed. Matt didn't waste any time jumping to his next words, but Frank still was stuck in a moment of pause. His eyes were slightly narrowed, his lips parted. He was thinking. I just couldn't tell about what from over here. I would've taken a front row seat, but then I'd be like a veal on a platter.

"Frank, we've heard a lot about neurochemistry and psychology and all things unfolding scientifically or otherwise inside your brain," while Matt went on, Frank's head tilted to the side as something obviously became clear to him. Then he sat back and looked at Matt in almost disbelief. "I just have one question I wanna ask…what happened that day—the day your family was so tragically killed?"

Frank was quiet a second. _Come on, just say it like you're talking to me. It wasn't hard then, was it?_ He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it, glancing around the courtroom. "It's okay, Frank," Matt assured, as if he were talking to an injured animal. _No, Matt, no_. "I understand it's difficult."

"Do you? Do you _understand_?" There it is. Frank started shaking his head. "'Cause I don't think you understand anything." I uncrossed my legs to sit more forward in my seat, resting my chin on my crossed hands, my elbows on my knees. Matt walked back to the table, folding up his stick. "I'd like permission to treat the witness as hostile, your honor," Matt said.

"Granted," the judge nodded.

"Alright, Frank," he turned back toward the stand and took slow steps toward it. "You don't wanna tell us? I'll tell you. I'm going to tell you exactly the kind of man you are. You're the kind of man this city needs," that caused me to sit up, in shock. "Because ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this city needs help—it needs it now. Not tomorrow, not next week, not when the day comes when the corruption that Wilson Fisk left in his wake is flushed out for good, or when the Police force is finally back on its feet.

"We need it now. Because this city's been sick. And the cops—they can't fix it alone. They need- _we_ all need men and women who are willing to take up the fight themselves, the kind of people who risk their lives so that we can walk safe at night in our own neighborhoods. The ones our esteemed District Attorney is trying so hard to destroy. New York _needs_ these people, we need… _heroes_." The gallery went wild with applause.

Matt turned toward the gallery when he'd finished. His red lenses were pointed in my general direction for a moment. I crossed my arms and sat back, not hiding my disapproval for his actions last night. But I secretly hoped he could sense that I was at least thankful for this. The judge called for order but it took longer for people to quiet this time. Matt didn't wait for them to settle down before he continued,

"The help they offer…and the hope that they provide. Frank Castle wanted to help, but he took it too far. He shot people. He killed people. It's against the law, and he broke that law many, many times. Now, I don't like him any more than you do, but here's the thing: he's not a common criminal. He's not malicious in intent. Frank Castle is actually a good man. He just doesn't know the difference between right and wrong anymore. And he doesn't need punishment for that, he needs help—our help. That's the kind of man Frank Castle is. Now you have to decide what kind of jury you want to be."

Matt excused himself and moved back to the table, sitting beside Foggy. I looked at Frank, only to find he was already looking straight at me. Something wasn't right. His expression was apologetic, softened. But I knew that face. He made the same expression when we were with the Irish. My heart sank. _Frank, what are you doing?_

I gave a small shake of my head in a warning. But he wiped his face of anything before turning his head to see the judge. "Your honor…can I say something?" he asked. I sat forward in my chair. This is not good. I almost couldn't hear the judge's reply over the thumping of my own heartbeat in my ears. "You may," she agreed.

"You know those, um…those people, the ones I put down—the ones I killed…I want you to know that I'd do it all again," the gallery was in complete shock, mild boos and gasps erupting. I covered my mouth with my hand. "This is a circus, alright? It's a charade, it's an act. It's ridiculous about how crazy I am- I ain't _crazy_! I'm not crazy, okay? I know what I did. I know who I am. And I do not need your help."

Some people in the gallery were trying to cheer Frank on. I wanted to reach back there and slap every one of them. _Stop, Frank, this is insane_. I was trying to will him to stop from clear over here. But it didn't work. He continued, "I'm smack dab in the middle of my right mind. And any scumbag, any…any lowlife, any maggot piece of trash that I put down, I did it because I like it! I _loved_ it!"

And the crowd went wild. Shouting and hollering. My hands were shaking, now both covering my mouth. Even though the judge called for order, no one really paid much attention, because Frank kept spewing. "I'm just itching- I'm itching to do it again. And you think, what? You think…you're gonna send me to a nut house? Some doctor, they're gonna get me to stop doing what I wanna do? WELL THAT AIN'T HAPPENING! NOT ON _MY_ WATCH!"

He stood from his seat and looked around at the people in the gallery. "You people call me 'The Punisher', ain't that right? The big bad Punisher. WELL HERE I AM! YOU WANT HIM? I'M RIGHT HERE! YOU WANT HIM- I'LL GIVE HIM TO YA!" An officer pulled Frank off the stand from behind, using a baton to help him gain leverage. Another officer hurried forward to help. Together they started dragging him toward the door.

The whole way Frank was screaming, "I'M GUILTY, YOUR HONOR! I'M GUILTY! I'LL KILL EVERY ONE OF EM! I'LL KILL EVERY SINGLE ONE!" They got him out but the damage had already been done. The gallery wouldn't shut up. I dropped my head into my hands as a tear rolled its way down my cheek. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. I sniffled hard and pulled my head up.

The whole defense table was standing now. Dani looked my way with a solemn expression. She shook her head sadly, only confirming what I was already thinking. We've lost.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"How did this happen?" Foggy asked as we all walked outside of the court house.

"How do you think it happened, Nelson?" I asked. "He was completely on board yesterday. Someone got to him."

"And convinced him of what? Yelling his way to multiple life sentences?"

"Me." Alison said, still in shock about what just happened. "Someone's probably holding me over his head."

"Using you to get to him," Matt nodded in agreement. I still can't believe he came. And that speech? He's crazy. That was more for me than for Frank's behalf. Alison shot daggers at Matt like I've never seen. She was not happy. Man, was she not happy. "I don't need you to back up my words," she said. "Oh, and have you seen the news today? HEROES ARE AT THE TOP OF EVERYONE'S DOO-DOO LIST!" she half screamed it, pure anger seething out with each word.

Karen put her hand on my shoulder, as the conversation continued. I looked at her and was met with a reassuring/sympathetic look. The whole world knows what happened. Matt, Alison, Foggy, and I know the truth. Karen thinks I've been spending the last week trying to find this new 'masked wing nut' that killed Mary. She and Foggy were a bit miffed when they learned I hid it from them. But I just told them I couldn't risk tipping off the guy because I didn't know where he was. Karen saw the logic in that. Foggy did not.

"I had it all lined up for you," Foggy argued. "All you had to do was get Frank to tell his side of the story."

"Not provoke him into a screaming fit!" Alison added. The three broke into a fight, each talking over the other. It lasted for a good two minutes before Matt gave up. The others kept talking, a few sentences more. I barely understood half of what they said the whole time. "You know what," Foggy said, "I'm glad we lost." He turned and walked away.

"Foggy…" Alison started after him.

"Let him go," Matt said. Alison had gotten three steps down. She turned around…and the look on her face was, like…I swear I peed my pants. She marched up to him. "Don't you EVER tell me what to do, Murdock," she said. Karen left, probably off to find Foggy. I hung back just in case Alison wanted to do something stupid.

"You just need to shut your mouth and get out of my life." She looked on the verge of a mental break down. You know, that moment when you're so stressed or mad all you can do is laugh? Well, this is her moment. "I am sick and tired of it, all of it. The…the holier-than-thou speeches and the disappearing acts. You were gone this whole time and you only showed your face just to mess it up." I leaned my back against one of the pillars, crossing my arms. "You're right…this city needs heroes. But you're not one of them."

She turned and hurried down the stairs. Wow. Mind. Blown. That was a whole new Alison. Remind me never to mess with her boy toy. After she left I just stood there. I wasn't sure what to do. I was thinking and feeling so many things. Matt was mad, probably hurt. His whole world is shunning him because of decisions he made. I hate it when that happens.

He turned toward me. "You going to yell at me, too?"

"Yeah," I said, like it was a duh statement. "Just…" I sucked in a breath "not right now." I didn't look at him, I just turned and left. I was near the base of the stairs when I shouted over my shoulder, "Let me know when you've grown a pair."


	23. Aftermath

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

As if my week couldn't be any more depressing. The only people coming to the Café today were wing nuts that supported Frank. Everyone and everything else had suddenly vanished. I finished refilling a customer's tea and shuffled back to the counter. It was inevitable, I suppose. No one wants to come hang out with someone that fell in love with a psychopath. And I was lucky enough to do just that. I put back the tea and started wiping down the counter.

I looked up at Chase absentmindedly. He sat at a table with Lizzie in his lap, feeding her soggy Cheerios from his cereal bowl. She was literally eating out of the palm of his hand. It was slightly uplifting for at least a moment. The bell above the door chimed and I looked up. Three men in semi-dark clothes walked into the Café. The man in front walked to the counter, while the other two hung back a bit. "Can I help you?" I asked, turning to face the man in front.

"I'm with Child Protection Services. Alison Fletcher, I have direct orders to remove Chase Mathew Fletcher from your care," he said, formally. My eyebrows rose just as I heard Chase's voice. He was shouting. I instantly looked left. The other two men were hauling a thrashing Chase toward the door and Lizzie was starting to cry in the chair, left behind. "Hey!" I shouted, my heart lurching into overdrive. I hurried around the counter.

The man that spoke to me grabbed my arm to hold me back. "Ma'am, we really don't want-"

I spun and sent my hand across the man's face. "Don't _touch_ me!" I yanked my arm free and turned back around. The door had just slammed shut on a dark SUV parked just out front, and I could no longer see Chase. My eyes full of water, I whirled to the man behind me. "Who told you to do this?" I demanded, my blood boiling.

"Due to your uncovered relationship with Frank Castle, you've been declared unfit by the state to remain the legal guardian of your son," he explained, calmly. He was completely overlooking the part where I slapped him. "I'm afraid this is the way it has to be, Miss Fletcher. Here is the official notice." He held out a folded piece of paper and I quickly took it.

I unfolded it, but I couldn't read it even if I wanted to. All I could see through the haze of the tears in my eyes was the government header and logo. He wasn't lying. The man promptly walked around me and, a second later, I heard the door close. My chest was burning now. It felt like I'd just been stabbed through the ribs with a butcher knife. And now the knife was spinning, and spinning, and spinning.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

"Well, what else?" I asked. "I mean, you guys are just done?"

"Pretty much," Foggy said dropping a stack of papers into a box on his desk. He opened a desk drawer and sifted through it. "I don't know what you said to him, Dylan," he shook his head. He looked at me. "But suddenly, he's…I don't know. He's says that he and the vigilante are the same person, and that I'm better off without him."

"Are you?"

"Are _you_?"

I sighed. "Good point." I sat in the chair in front of his desk. "I don't know. Part of me thinks that none of this would've happened had Elektra not shown up. But the other part…knows it probably would've."

"You know about her too?"

"Yeah. I didn't know you did. I was just assuming."

"You know, one of the things he said was that he was done apologizing for who he was," Foggy said. "What brought that on?"

"Me," I said, looking up at Foggy. "The other night when we…talked, I was basically telling him that about me."

"I didn't know you two were having problems."

"Yeah, it's…"

"Complicated?"

"Very," I said. "But hey, _we're_ talking again." He rolled his eyes and went back to packing.

"What's going on?" Karen asked. She was standing in the doorway. I didn't even hear her come in. Foggy looked up at her and then back at his stuff. "I'm packing up," he said.

"The Frank Castle files?"

"You hungry? Let's get some food. Thanks to Frank Castle anyone who was going to walk through those doors is now going to go elsewhere." I sighed at his attempt to avoid the inevitable.

"Hey, can I show you guys something?" she asked. She turned and left before a reply could be given. I sighed. The trial and this thing with Matt….and Mary, it's sucked everything out of me. I need to go home and cry. But I followed Foggy out to the other room. Karen was behind the desk, digging through some papers.

"Do you remember a john doe in the report that the ME falsified?" she asked.

"Nope," Foggy said and I shook my head.

"I think I found something pretty vague here."

"Whose house did you break into?" I asked with a smile.

"No need. It's just press passes and NYPD files…" she said. "So, these pictures are all from the day Frank's family was killed." Man, she's crazy. Can't she just stop? I mean, how many dead horses can one girl beat? She put a photo on the desk in front of us. Then pointed to one of the dead bodies. "You see him?"

"Yep," Foggy sighed. She put a new photo on top of it. This one was missing the dead guy. "Maybe someone already bagged and tagged him-"

"I checked but I couldn't find any death certificate. Whoever he was it's like he was never there," she said. "Foggy, look, he was. He was there. What if he's our john doe?"

"Karen, let it go," he said, looking like he was losing his mind. "The trial is over." He turned and left. She looked to me. I shrugged, "Sorry, Karen. I need to retire from…everything, for a while." She nodded, understanding. She then took the photos and chased Foggy into his office. I smiled and left.

I went to my building, the one I haven't seen in eight days. I climbed the fire escape to the roof, taking in a breath of city air as I climbed onto it. I walked across it, to the part of the roof that overlooks the entrance. I put my arms on the ledge, interlocking my fingers. I leaned into it and then closed my eyes.

 _I sat on the edge of the roof to my building, in full Angel attire. I looked down at the ground, dangling my feet. I sighed and then looked back up, out at the city. It's so pretty at night. Every building has a light on. A real bustling metropolis. Though, you can't see the stars. Too many lights for that. But the city looks cool through blue lenses._

 _I heard footsteps behind me and then glanced over my shoulder. Daredevil was walking toward me. I pulled my legs up and then spun around so I was facing him. "You're late."_

I took slow, even breaths. Maybe a vacation is what I need. The only problem? I'd have to come back to reality. I opened my eyes, peering over the edge at the sidewalk below. I watched people walking by, my mind wondering.

" _Guess who's not dead?" I said, sarcastically. Foggy rushed forward and wrapped his arms around my middle, lifting me slightly in his hug. "Whoa, easy! I'm only a couple minutes over time," I said, as he put me down._

" _Are you kidding? TEN MINUTES, Dani," he said, over punctuating._

" _Oh…yeah, that wasn't planned," I said, looking down._

" _What took you so long?" Alison asked._

" _I had to lift the guy's finger prints off the knob before I could leave," I said, exhaustedly._

" _Well, next time call. You had all of us worried," Foggy spoke seriously, hooking an arm around my shoulders protectively. "Besides, I thought the guy would be cheesed because you payed him in dollar bills." Alison's eyes shot wide and Karen let out a surprised chuckle._

" _If you don't mind me asking, how much did you give him?" Matt asked, cautiously._

" _Forty thousand," I replied, like the amount was nothing._

I laughed. The looks on their faces were priceless. I sighed. I miss those times. When we were all friends. When things were simple. When Matt and I spent all day flirting, not knowing that we kicked butt every night together. What would've happened had we never known about the other? Had the Devil and the Angel not been friends? What if I'd told him who I was day one? That I was a killer. That I'd do it again. That I always will.

"There she is," he hear from behind me. I startled, hard. I turned around. "Sorry I couldn't get here sooner. I was saving the world from an army of robots. It was like a very scary Terminator remake." Clint walked up to me from the roof access door. I saw him and instantly broke down. "Hey," he said softly.

I ran the distance between us and then latched onto him. He was still in uniform, a quiver strapped to his back and a bow in hand. I didn't care. I squeezed him just as hard. The tears started and they didn't stop. Everything that had happened in the last week came pouring out of my eyes and onto him. But he didn't care and he didn't say anything. He didn't ask questions, he knew. I had just lost another person. And once again…I was alone.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

"Alison? Alison, are you here?" My ears just barely picked up on Karen's voice from downstairs. Everything in me tensed as I opened my eyes. It almost pained me to do so. They were dry— _too dry_ —and I could barely make out the ceiling above me. I heard footsteps on the stairs and I sat up. "Alison? Alison- oh…Alison, are you okay?"

Karen stopped at the top of the stairs, her expression full of concern. I sighed and reached for the bottle of whiskey on my coffee table. "Not particularly," I shook my head, and instantly regretted it. My mind was a haze. A dull, aching haze. I took a pull from the bottle. "What do you want, Karen?"

"I, um…I just came to…what happened?" she asked, slowly walking over.

I made a sound of annoyance at the thought of the answer to that question. "Child Services took Chase this morning. I guess my relationship with Frank Castle swayed them to make the decision to take him," I laughed humorlessly. "That DA has another thing coming to her."

"Oh my…Alison, I'm so sorry," Karen said, genuinely. She stopped beside the coffee table. I glanced up. She was dressed like she just came from the office, files in hands, and I inwardly groaned. Not this again. Can't you see I'm wallowing, Karen? "Why are you here?" I asked, bluntly.

"Well, I was going to ask you to come to the Bulletin with me—I know Ellison only let us in before because of you…but I can see-"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why do you need in?"

"Um…there are some pretty big anomalies in these autopsy reports. It's a lead, but no one will listen to me. Alison, I…I know you're going through hell right now. But this could help prove that the DA is corrupt. That she deliberately tried to hide evidence—that there was a cover-up involving Frank's family," she explained, taking a seat on the cushion beside me. "I just thought you would want to help."

I sighed, putting the whiskey bottle back on the table. This is just great. Now the not-so-destroyed alter ego inside me wants revenge. I tried to shut it out, the little voice telling me to say yes. But it wouldn't quiet down. I groaned and stood. "Give me ten minutes," I agreed.

She exhaled with relief. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet." I went into my bedroom and put on some fresh clothes. Dark jeans, a white top, and my blue plaid coat. I couldn't find any shoes that interested me so my flats would have to do. Once I'd changed and downed a couple pain pills for my headache, Karen and I drove to the Bulletin. She filled me in on what exactly was the problem on the way. Apparently the anomalies were pretty significant.

Some guy was in one photo and not in another—and both photos were legitimate crime scene photos taken by Police, no less. And somehow none of the things Karen mentions were intriguing to Dani and Foggy. I can see why Foggy would want to wash his hands of the whole thing, but not Dani. Once again, I lead the way to the right floor, and then into the offices of the Bulletin. As soon as we walked, Ellison came out of the back room.

He smiled lightly, closed-mouthed. "Alison Fletcher, apparent girlfriend of a convicted mass murderer," he greeted, causing me to sigh as we stopped two feet from him. "And Karen Page, who had a front row seat to the trial of the decade. Did you bring me a t-shirt?"

"We brought something better," Karen shook her head, then gestured to her files.

"Let's talk. In here." He motioned for us to follow as he slipped back into the store room. Karen followed almost instantly and I shuffled along behind her begrudgingly. I could already see that this was going to be not so great for me. We set up on an empty shelf. Karen splayed out her crime scene photos and looked to Ellison. "These are from the NYPD files from Castle's family's autopsy report," she said.

He nodded once with a hum, seeing that it was obvious. She took a breath and continued. "So here- you can see here-"

"Yeah, the body is there. And here the body is gone," Ellison pointed to the pictures while he spoke, and then looked up at Karen. "Is this supposed to be some kind of test?" I stood back with my arms crossed, leaning into the shelves behind me. "Well, I think this is the John Doe that the medical examiner said that he covered up," Karen explained.

"Said when?" Ellison asked, unknowing.

"During the Frank Castle trial," Karen replied, like it was obvious. Then she realized what I was already thinking. Ellison wasn't in the courtroom, you nut. "Oh, um…I'm sorry, they cleared the courtroom. I was one of the handful of people that actually heard it."

"Okay, so then we identify John Doe and then we find out why he was important enough to hide," Ellison reasoned.

I looked at my cell phone clock. "Um, sorry, that we is going to have to be you two," I apologized. I pushed off the shelves and Karen looked to me, an eyebrow raised. "If I stay I'll miss the cut off for visiting hours. There's a…there's a lot he's missed in there."

Karen nodded in understanding. "Oh, yeah, of course. I understand."

"Wait, who is he?" Ellison asked, turning to see me.

"My convicted mass murderer boyfriend," I replied, dryly, using his terminology from earlier. He pursed his lips, like he'd gotten it, and I headed for the door. "Wait- Alison?" I turned around at the doorway, hearing Karen's voice from behind. I raised an eyebrow. "Be careful, okay?"

I nodded once. "Will do."

I turned and headed out of the office. The way to the prison was already familiar to me. There was even a guard I knew who always worked Wednesdays—the day I would usually visit my mom—who was actually a nice guy. He was kind of older and a little portly but he was always nice to me. He just happened to be there working the end of the day shift.

I stepped up to the front guard desk and he smiled up at me from behind it. "Hey, Alison. Back so soon?"

"Yeah," I chuckled a little. "I just couldn't stay away from you."

He pointed at me. "That's a good one," he said, before grabbing me a sign in sheet. "You here to see Eleanor?"

"Um, no, actually. Frank Castle," I shook my head, taking the pen he handed me. His eyes rounded a second and I looked down at the paper. I started scribbling. The process was already drilled into my brain. I barely exerted any effort. "Wow. How'd you draw the short straw on that one?" he asked, chuckling a little, joking.

I chuckled back to be polite. "You don't watch the news much, do you, Terry?"

"Eh, only on the weekends, really. Why, did I miss somethin' good?" Now I genuinely laughed at that. I finished writing in my information and shook my head, handing the paper back. He took it as I said, "Probably not."

"Have a nice visit, Alison," he smiled.

I nodded once, returning the smile. "Thanks. Have a nice night."

"Always." I laughed and followed the guard to the visiting room. My feet have walked these halls many times throughout my last decade of existence. And other guards know exactly who I am as well. But I only ever remembered Terry. He's worked here practically since I was in diapers.

That thought filled my chest with a dense regret. It made me think of Chase, back when it was just me and him. It seemed like it only took a second for him to grow up. And it only took a second for DCS to take him away from me. All because I couldn't keep my anger in check. The door buzzed to unlock and the guard stepped back, letting me into the room. I nodded in thanks and he returned it as I passed. It was an empty viewing room.

At least this way there would be more privacy. I remember coming to visit my mom once, and some woman was arguing with her son two windows down. They couldn't stop screaming at each other. I couldn't have any time with mom that day because by the time the guards got that woman out, it was time for me to leave. I'm supposed to only get ten minutes. But Terry always made sure I got fifteen.

I exhaled as I sat at the third window in. The guards hadn't brought Frank in yet, so I took this quiet moment to think about what I was going to say. What _do_ I say? The typically _how are you_ seems a bit impractical. The door on the prisoners' side buzzed and I jumped slightly, too in thought to brace for it ahead of time. Frank walked into view on the other side of the glass and sat in the chair. I only saw myself for a split second at home.

But it was enough to know just how awful I looked. The bruises were turning yellow now and my eyes were a crisp shade of exhaustion. I picked up my phone almost the same time he reached for his. He looked a lot better than at the hospital. I was finally close enough to see just how much of his bruises had healed. "Hey," his deep voice came through the phone and I nearly lost it right then.

I nodded a little. "Hey. How's life on the inside?"

He eyed me a moment, probably trying to decided if that was a joke or not. Then he exhaled through his nose and readjusted his position. "It's alright," he answered, evenly. "How's life outside?"

"Um…" I looked down a second. _Come on, Alison. Buck up_. I forced my eyes back up as I inhaled sharply. "Not so good, Frank. After the trial was over, Child Services showed up at my Café, and…now I have a child but it is somewhere with some new family, in the foster system." Frank visibly tensed on the other side of the glass.

I could hear his breathing turn heavy, focused, through the phone. He looked to the right for a moment. My chest felt too tight and my eyes were starting to sting. The topic of conversation was obviously a sore subject for both of us now. "This is because of the trial, isn't it? This is…this is because of me, isn't it?" he asked, rhetorically, his eyes shifting back to mine finally.

There was no way I felt good about flat out saying yes. I opened my mouth to say something different, but nothing came out. A tidal wave of despair washed over me and I covered my mouth with my hand as the tears started forcing their way from my eyes. I looked down, quickly removing the phone from my ear for a moment.

Chase was all I had for ten years of my life. He was my son, my best friend, my worst enemy, and my little hero all wrapped in one. And that was all gone. I felt an empty feeling in my stomach. But I sniffled hard, forcing the tears back enough to pull the phone to my ear again. I inhaled. "They said that the state decided I was 'unfit' to be his legal guardian," I explained, sounding a bit weird from the momentary tears. "It was because of what I said."

"What you said about _me_ ," he corrected, subtly angered.

I shook my head. "Frank-"

"Don't try to tell me it had nothing to do with me, Alison. The only reason you were involved in the trial like that was because that scumbag of a DA decided she could use you against me," he interjected, the anger slipping more and more into his voice with every passing word. His eyes refused to leave mine. They were intense, almost feral. "Can't you get him back?"

"I don't know. Probably not," I replied, tiredly.

"What about Dani? Can't she put on her mask and break him out?"

"No, Child Protection Services is not a prison. You can't just-" I stopped myself, taking a deep break. I calmed myself just enough to even out my tone. "You can't break someone out of it. I mean, he- he's a part of the foster system now. It's up to the government where he goes. He's probably not even in Hell's Kitchen anymore." He sighed heavily and settled into his seat, his eyes moving to his right again.

Practically looking everywhere but at me. I know exactly what it's like to blame yourself for something like this—because that was what I was doing right then. "Look…It's _my_ fault. If I had kept to the script and not engaged, none of this would've happened," I reasoned, calmly. "But I couldn't help myself. And here we are. Now that that's settled, wanna tell me what happened in the courtroom yesterday?"

His head remained to the right, but his eyes were on me almost instantly. I wiped at my under eyes and raised an eyebrow expectantly. "What about what happened?"

"Don't pull that. You know exactly what," I pressed, keeping my tone even.

He turned his head toward me before replying, "I got an offer, and I took it. It was last minute." I stared at him a minute. _Really, Frank?_ I tried to think of who was in prison that could possibly know anything, but my mind was so fuzzed I couldn't possibly remember that. I sighed. "Even if you found something out, how are you supposed to act on it from in there?" I asked, rhetorically.

"It's complicated, okay? I'll explain everything. I just need to-"

The guard buzzed in and my head snapped left. He stepped halfway into the room with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but time's up," he informed. I nodded once and looked back at Frank. Before, he'd looked angered and annoyed by the Chase situation. Now he just looked deflated and saddened. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you," he said, his voice matching his demeanor.

"Frank…" I inched closer to the counter between us on my chair. "I _love_ you. Don't think that that's about to change. I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?"

"Just remember what I told you at the hospital," he said, leaning just slightly closer as well.

The thought instantly brought the words into my head. "I will," I nodded. It seemed like a corny gesture, but it was all I had. So I kissed the ends of my fingers and touched my hand to the glass. There was barely second of hesitation before he did the same. I tried to remember what his skin felt like. His eyes moved up to mine from our hands, completely softened. "I love you, Alison."


	24. Drained

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I can't believe I agreed to this. And, yet…here I am. I should be at home, making funeral arrangements or finding Ward or trying to figure out how to get Chase back. I tried applying to be his foster parent and it was a no go. Someone doesn't want that boy here with us. I just hope he's in the right hands. I don't know what I'd do if Ward found him. Anyway, back to this stupid thing I decided to do…

I walked through the dark hall, making my way toward the others. Daredevil had a hold of the lead Japanese guy by the throat. Another one jumped up with a gun, swinging it around like a drunken pelican. I crept up behind him and smacked him over the back of the head. He collapsed and then I stepped over him.

Okay, so here's the back story, because I'm not even sure how I got here: I was Alison's on the couch with Clint when my phone rang. I saw it was Matt and didn't answer. Then he called back. After repeating this process for a half hour I decided to answer. "What do you want? My new kid's trying to sleep." A lie but I thought I'd throw it in there anyway.

"Can I talk to you…in person?" he asked hesitantly. I sighed, glancing at Clint.

"Yeah," I grumbled.

"Thank you. Down stairs."

"Wait, now?" and then the line went dead. I grunted and then stood, giving Clint a lame excuse. Of course, 'I'm out of wine' isn't an excuse…it's a tragedy. So I went down the stairs and found Daredevil standing in the middle of the room. I sat the empty wine bottle on the counter and then went into the back for another. I came out and then grabbed the cork screw. "What?"

He took off his mask and sat it on one of the tables. "I wanted to apologize…for everything that's happened since Elektra showed up. I know that it was wrong and I should've been there for you, with you." I popped the cork and it went flying, hitting the ceiling before crashing into the cash register. The till drawer flew open with such force, that when it couldn't go anymore, all the coins flew out and on the ground.

"Hmm," I looked at the mess and poured a glass, deciding to ignore it. And Matt. I took a drink and then walked around the counter, abandoning the bottle. "You realize…even if I forgave you, things wouldn't be the same. I can't go back."

"I know," he said. "But…I'd like to try to fix this."

"There is no 'fixing it', Matt. Only growing up and moving on. Which I'm doing, right now, with that bottle of wine," I pointed. He didn't look impressed. I don't know what he thought would happen. "You know, I didn't want this, to be in love." He looked at me. "My life has been about survival, love was…just a crazy dream, something 'normal' people had. So when Andy fell in love…I thought he was crazy, that it'd never last. And then, before I knew it, there were rings and a white dress and a baby. And then he was living somewhere else, with someone else.

"And then, I had his new wife, whom I didn't like at the time, down my throat about finding someone." I slightly chuckled at the memory. "But I told her, 'no, I'm not ready'. I wanted to be done with war, done with politics, and saving people. I wanted to be done with all of it, before I settled down. That's what Andy did. He was with S.H.I.E.L.D., a biochemist, and then met Mary and retired. He found her and knew his days at S.H.I.E.L.D. were done. That he was going to be normal…for her." I twirled my glass in my hand. "And look how that turned out."

I drank what was in my glass and then sat it on the counter, pouring another. "Don't mind me…I'm half drunk. Or maybe I'm just now thinking clearly, who knows," I shrugged. I took a drink and then faced him. "But, Matt…I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale. I'm not the one who gets swept off her feet, the leader of the stairwell. I'm the girl who always gets knocked down, the one who's first to be shot at. I've lost everything and yet still have stuff. I have nothing worth living for and yet…" I took a drink. "I have Lizzie, and Clint. Oh, and my idiot father and his knew family."

"And me. You have me."

"Didn't you just here what I said? It's too late for you and your white horse to come around. I'm far past saving."

"Well, maybe I don't want to save you," he said. I finished my glass and then set it down. I turned toward him, putting my elbow on the counter and leaning into it. I sighed, glancing around. Then I settled on him. "I want that to be true," I said. "And I don't want to be mad at you. Holding onto anger…it's like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die," I chuckled. "But my trust, Matt…I'm sure there's a refill out there somewhere, but I don't know where it is."

So, that pretty much brings me to where I am right now…stepping over the body of a Japanese guy. Okay, I left a few parts out, but you get the gist. Matt and I are on speaking terms. He asked if I could help him save the city from The Hand. I told him I would, but this doesn't mean anything. And he agreed. Right before Clint came down the stairs and decked him. He should've seen that coming.

Daredevil took the phone out of the guy's hand and set it down. I stood waiting to see what we could get out of this guy. But everything I was seeing was blue and the weight of my bow in its holster wasn't helping. Clint brought me a new bow, but…it's going to take some getting used to. I know Mary would've wanted me to keep using it as my weapon, to catch people like Ward.

"There are more men outside."

"Not conscious ones," Daredevil said. I decided to be the silent partner on this. That was one of the rules for this mission. "Tell me about the farm. What are you growing here?" The guy started laughing. Daredevil kicked him in the knee and then caught him by his throat, pulling him back up. "I am not afraid to hurt you."

"I know you're not. But you're not the only devil who will walk these streets," the guy said. Hmm. Creepy. Daredevil zoned out for a minute and then said, "What's in the basement?"

"The rising is coming. You two cannot stop what we have started." He chuckled. Oh, I want to hit him. I need to hit something. I walked closer to them. Daredevil was zoning out again. His head turned to the side. I walked around them and looked down the hall. "What is it?" I asked.

"Blood."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

After talking to Frank, I needed something to keep me busy. So I drove to the Bulletin to see if Karen and Ellison were still there. They probably were, knowing Karen. On the way I tried to get myself to a point of some kind of emotional stability. Or at least a place where I wasn't crying all the time. Then, when I finally arrived, I stayed in the car a moment to fix my makeup a little.

Just enough to make it look like I was okay. Then I headed inside. As I entered the offices, Karen was walking out. "Oh, Alison," she stopped, nearly running into me. "I didn't know you were coming back."

I nodded once, inhaling. "Yeah…I suddenly found myself with a lot of free time and in need of a project."

"Okay, well you can finish where I started with Ellison," she suggested. "Here—these are all the files. Go to town, if you want."

I took her files and exhaled. "Sure. Why not?"

"Great. I'll see you tomorrow?" I nodded and she skirted past me out the door. Ellison stood with his arms crossed just at the end of the hall, a few yards in front of me. I walked to the end of the hall and stopped a foot from him. "Got anywhere I can set up?" I asked, dryly.

"Look, Alison, I didn't mean to seem like a jerk. It probably wasn't the best thing to have said," he apologized.

It surprised me, but I nodded once. "I've heard worse."

"I'm sure you have," he agreed. Then he snapped to it and started for a familiar door. "Oh, why don't you just work in here?" He opened the door and flipped on the light, turning sideways just inside to see me. I swallowed. The name beside the door was still labeled _Ben Urich_. I couldn't. Could I?

I took a couple steps inside and paused. The inside looked like it hadn't been touched. There were still articles tacked to his cork board from last year, from taking down Fisk. A familiar ebb in my chest started to sting and I turned around to face Ellison. "Why here?" I questioned. "This is…this is Ben's office."

He crossed his arms. "I know what it is. That's why you're here. Alison, Ben saw something in you. _I_ have yet to see it-" I managed to chuckle a little at that. "-but I know you meant a lot to him. And you're just like him, too, which drives me _insane_. I'm gonna be here all night if I keep going. But, the point is, he would want _you_ to use this office. Now get to work, Fletcher."

He held up a thumb and then left the office, closing the door behind him. I exhaled and turned back toward the desk. _Am I really doing this?_ I went around behind it and dropped into the faux leather office chair. I was in here many times when Ben was still alive. Only, I'd never been on this side of the desk before. It felt…odd. I twisted the chair to the right to see behind me. There was a framed photo of Ben and Doris on the filing cabinets behind the chair.

I picked it up and brought it closer to better see it. They looked so happy, so well. Now Doris was just barely hanging on at the hospital, and Ben wasn't even alive anymore. I sighed and put the picture back before turning the computer to face the desk. I dropped Karen's files atop it and opened them up. Time to focus on something other than all my life problems.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We followed the crazy old man down an even crazier flight of stairs. I came out to a dark dungeon looking room. Most of it was so dark I couldn't see. I followed behind Daredevil, hoping his super senses would alert me to something before it kills me. I finally saw some lights ahead. We came to the end of the hallway, and it opened up into a real dungeon.

All I saw were metal cages, each one having a person in it. Tubes and wires were strung about, going to the cages and then leading somewhere else. "Oh my goodness," I whispered, too stunned to say it louder. One of the people moved and the Japanese guy jumped. He slipped from Daredevil's grasp and ran off, back the way we came. "This is crazy."

Daredevil moved in closer to one of the cages. He was just now seeing how black it was. "All these people."

I looked down at a different cage. "They're just skin and bone. Completely drained." I followed one of the tubes with my eyes. It led to a tank in the corner, partially full of blood. What is going on here? Suddenly, a guy came running in. He went straight to the cages, looking for someone who I'm assuming is his son. He finally settled on a cage.

I walked around a cage and stepped over a tube. I found a set of keys hanging on the wall and snagged it. I tossed it over the cage to Daredevil. He caught it and then gave it to the guy. I pulled out my lock picking kit and then started in. I heard two thuds and instantly knew the sound. It was two knives hitting wood. Someone's here.

"They weren't finished," a voice said. I looked around the cage and saw a man off in the far distance, dressed totally in black. His face was covered but his eyes were visible. Daredevil stood and then a split second later they were charging each other. They clashed and instantly their fists were flying. I pulled out my bow, watching our opponent.

His fighting style looks familiar. Even his voice sounded familiar. I flicked my wrist and the bow expanded. I walked around cage out into the open. I reached behind me and pulled out an arrow. I brought it over my head and into the bow. I clipped it's tail onto the string and then froze. I stared at the bow in my hands.

I knew this was a bad idea. My hands started shaking. As flashes of Ward using this same weapon to kill Mary flashed into my view. I saw him pulling back, let go. The arrow pierce through the air and then into her skin. For the first time in my life, I was completely frozen in the middle of the battle. And it scared me.

Daredevil was on the ground, feet in front of me. The guy loomed above him. I saw my chance, I knew I could hit him. But I couldn't move. My hands still shook. A slight gasp escaped me as the arrow slipped off the string and clattered to the ground. All eyes were on me. The guy abandoned his advance on Daredevil and turned toward me. He slowly walked my way, staring at me with questioning eyes. And it was then that I knew who he was. Nobu.

But the closer he got, I still didn't move. Daredevil ran up behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck. He pulled him back and then resumed their original battle. I sighed, trying to catch my breath. I reached for another arrow. I swung it over my head, slid it into place. My hands shook but I ignored it. I raised the bow and saw Ward. I pulled back the string and caught another glimpse of him.

I watched the two men fight until I saw my chance. And I took it. I let go of the string, just as Nobu punched Daredevil sending him several feet back. My vision was overwhelmed with Ward, with Mary, with that night. I got down on my knees, holding my head. I just wanted it to go away, for this nightmare that is my life to go away.

A few seconds later it stopped. I sighed, taking in my surroundings. Nobu was gone. Vanished into some hidden room. I grabbed my bow and stood. Daredevil was still on the ground several feet away. I folded down my bow and slipped it away, then ran over to him. I got down on the ground as he sat up. "I'm sorry," I sniffled. "I don't know what happened…I froze."

"It's okay," he said, clearly hurting from his fight. "I…should've known better." Yeah, Matt. That's the title of your autobiography.


	25. Birds of a Feather

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

We called in an anonymous tip to the police department about what we had discovered. Or rather, who. It didn't take long for the police to arrive. We hung around and made sure they showed up and that they found the people in the basement. We stood outside of the building, around the corner and twenty feet from the door. It's probably best the cops don't see me. But, Matt's convinced that we need to talk to Mahoney. Who just happened to show up. It's like he's the only cop in this town.

"You talked to Alison?" I asked, completely out of the blue. I'm not sure why I did. I think the quiet was starting to get to me. Daredevil looked at me, blood stained his chin. I still feel bad about freezing. I wish I could've done something, but…I don't know. Maybe it was too soon coming out. Maybe I should've taken that vacation after all.

"Not since the court house," he said. "Why?" I slightly dropped my head and then looked around. "Did something happen?"

I looked back at him. "One of the days in court, Alison was put on the stand as a witness. The DA was relentless and Alison couldn't help herself," I said. He looked like he didn't understand the point. "She confessed to falling in love with The Punisher. And then today, Child Services came and took Chase, deeming Alison unfit."

He opened his mouth to reply when the officers exited the building. Mahoney walked to his car, saying a few things into his radio. I whistled slightly and Mahoney turned our way. He glanced around before sighing and walking over to us. He put his back against the wall we were using as a shield, trying to not look like he was talking to someone in the shadows.

"Let me guess," he said, "you're the ones who found them?" Then he looked at me. "And I have orders to arrest you."

"We both know I didn't do it," I countered. Well all spoke quiet and softly so the other cops wouldn't hear.

"The cages," Daredevil said, "the medical tubing. They were being drained."

"For what?" Mahoney asked.

"It doesn't matter. We need to find the people who did this to them."

"It would be a good start if you told me who that was," he glanced at me, "both of you." I rolled my eyes. He knows I know who killed Mary, and he knows I'm keeping it from him. He doesn't know, however, why I'm keeping it from him, just that I am. "You two see anyone down there?" Yes.

"No," Daredevil said. "But you can start with the Yakuza."

"What? You're saying the Yakuza is mixed up with another group?"

"Yep."

"That's scarier than all this cult looking ritual stuff put together. This group. They got a name?"

"I'm working on it," he said. Which is another lie. We already know it was The Hand. A (not so) secret group, of quote 'evil mystical ninjas', who are heavily involved in organized crime and mercenary activities such as assassinations. I don't know what they want with Hell's Kitchen, but if they're here, and so is Nobu…then it can't be good. Maybe it is a good idea to keep Mahoney away from this.

"Listen," I said. "We need to get these people off the grid and somewhere safe. We don't know what was done to them, or who might be looking for them. Take them to Metro-General, quietly. No one can know they're there."

"Really?" Mahoney glared at me. "Another one of your 'keep it quiet's?' I've had people crawling all over me, wondering why I sat on that info for so long."

"I know, Brett. And I'm sorry and thankful, for what you did. But this is different, more lives are at stake," I said.

"And this time," Daredevil said, "she's not alone." I glanced at him and then looked back at Mahoney. He looked between the two of us, unimpressed. Then he sighed. "Fine," he said. "But just know, one of these days…I'm going to tell you how to do _your_ job." He turned and left. We turned and started walking in the opposite direction. I looked at Daredevil. "Can this day get any worse?"

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I exhaled, rubbing my hands up and down my arms. It was strangely cold this morning standing on the steps to the courthouse. Reyes apparently told all of us at Nelson and Murdock closely involved with the trial to show up today. Given the news of Frank's escape from prison, that didn't surprise me. Unfortunately for me, I got stuck waiting for the others with Foggy. I tried to ignore him for the first long while.

But the quiet seemed to be eating away at him. He'd glance at me, then away, and then back at me again in a nervous way. I briefly wondered if he believed what Reyes thought in court—that I'd killed people, too. Of course, by now I have. But it's easier to do when your friends don't look at you differently because of it. "Just say it, Nelson," I finally said, just sounding tired.

He sighed. "Karen said you went to visit Castle in prison," he glanced at me. "How'd that go?"

For a moment, I couldn't respond. All I could do was eye him questioningly. "Uh…okay, I guess," I replied, in disbelief.

"I'm sorry about Chase. I can't imagine what that must be like for you," he said, apologetically.

"Okay, why are you being nice to me all of the sudden?" I inquired, genuinely curious. "Did the decent-human-being-bug bite you where the Lord split you?"

He shook his head, smiling a little at the joke. "Not quite. Oh, here comes Karen." I looked over toward the parking lot. Sure enough, the blondie was being guided over by Agent Gallagher. I met her on the way in. She seems…interesting. Gallagher dropped off Karen with us and headed up the rest of the steps. Karen held out her arms, looking at me, and I stepped into them with a small smile.

She hugged me tightly. "How're you holding up, girl?" I stepped back with a sigh. I didn't quite know how to respond so I just held up my hand flat and teetered it in a so-so motion. She nodded in understanding and Foggy scoffed. "What? No hug for me?" he admonished, sarcastically. Karen gave him a look and opened her arms. "That's more like it."

They shared a brief hug. As soon as they'd parted, Dani and Matt trotted up the steps to us. There was no missing the bruising on their faces. Seemed like they were at it again last night. Shocker there. "Wow, you two look like usual," Foggy greeted, in mock surprise.

"Ha ha. Any word from Reyes?" Dani asked, stepping up beside Karen.

I shook my head. "Not yet. We haven't even been inside."

"Security is crazy, man." Foggy's eyes widened in an expression as he looked over Karen's shoulder at the door. There was a line of people in suits all the way to the parking lot. Dani let out a low whistle, twisting to see. "Well, with Frank Castle on the streets…it doesn't really surprise me," Matt shook his head.

"Did he say anything to you last night, Alison?" Karen asked, curiously. "Anything that could've hinted to this?" Matt looked interested, turning his head toward my general direction. Like this was the first he'd heard about it. Which, it was. I gave a shake of my head. "No…nothing that meant this," I glanced around.

"How did he get out so quickly?" Matt wondered aloud.

"He had to have gotten help on the inside," Dani reasoned, to no one in particular. She didn't look at Matt, but everyone knew who she was replying to. Just then, Agent Gallagher reappeared beside me. "Miss Fletcher, right this way," she nodded. "I'll be back for the rest of you." She put a hand on my back to guide me up the steps toward the security.

It was an intense process. Empty anything and everything into a tray, slide it through the x-ray. Walk through the metal detector, get waved with the wand. Grab all your gear and you'll get anything back they confiscated when you leave. Thankfully for me they didn't take anything. I waited just inside the building while one-by-one everyone else got checked in. Finally, Gallagher could take us to Reyes's office. On the way, Foggy had to open his mouth. "Reyes is going to fry us like a fish," he commented.

"And without any cause," Karen added.

"Well, on paper we're still Frank Castle's attorneys," Matt reminded.

"And I am _so_ proud of that," Foggy shook his head. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore the conversation. "If Reyes can find a way to blame us for this, she will."

"Dani, Alison—you two have spent the most time with Frank. Did he say anything that could help us right now? Anything at all?" Matt asked. I bit my lip. Dani sighed and slid her hands into her pockets with a shrug. "Nothing about escaping prison, if that's what you mean," she shook her head.

I thought back to our conversation. He said he'd taken an offer from someone that made him get thrown in prison deliberately. "Alison?" I looked up. Everyone was eyeing me curiously now. Good job, Alison. I shook my head, swallowing it down. "No," I lied.

"Well, he wasn't going to some country club," Foggy dug into his bag and pulled out a file, handing it to Dani. She opened it and started scanning. "They were burying him in their highest security control unit. Along with all the other rock stars in cell block D." Cell block D. Yeah, one of those _rock stars_ is my mother. Go figure. We turned a corner and Gallagher lead us into a small office. After we all filed in, Gallagher said it would just be a minute before heading out.

Matt looked to Foggy. "Cell block D?"

"Yeah. That mean something to you?" Foggy asked

"Yeah, I like to keep track of the people who want to kill us," Matt leaned into his stick. Then it hit me. I glanced at Dani. She looked knowing but like she wasn't going to say anything, patiently biding her time until we could get into a bigger room. One where she could ignore him better. "The Punisher," Foggy said, like it was obvious.

"No, not Frank. Wilson Fisk," Matt shook his head.

"Frank blows his trial and ends up on Fisk's cell block?" Karen asked, rhetorically.

Matt nodded. "And a day later he's on the street." Foggy started arguing with him about it, but I tuned them out. _I got an offer, and I took it_. Did he get an offer from Fisk? To do what, bust him out of prison? Then what was the point of even going in? The ADA suddenly opened the door to the next room over, pulling me from my thoughts. "She'll see you now," he announced. Foggy lead the way in behind the weasely dude.

Right into Satan's mistress's office. Reyes was just finishing a phone call when we walked in. I was the last one in so I closed the door behind us and stepped up beside the others. After a second, Reyes hung up the phone and turned to us. She was wearing casual clothes, which was odd. I guess she didn't expect to come in today. Funny, neither did we. "Thank you for coming," she nodded to us.

Karen scoffed a little. "Kind of hard to say no when the cops pick you up."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. Could you, please, have a seat?" she gestured to the chair in front of her desk. There were only three so Matt and Foggy decided to stand and let Dani, Karen, and me sit. Foggy sighed. "I don't know what your play is, lady, but let's cut the poo. You bring us in, expecting to swipe privilege information about our client out of us," he said, tiredly.

"Yes, if that helps. We have to get Frank Castle off the street before anyone else gets hurt," Reyes answered.

"Who, like you?" I asked, folding my arms. Reyes looked at me. "If you want to know what we know, you're gonna have to spill the beans. Then maybe we'll talk." She looked her typical annoyed self but there was an air of understanding to what I just said. Like she actually wanted to cooperate. It was nauseating. "I made mistakes," she nodded, looking down.

"The what now?" Dani raised a brow.

"Central Park," Reyes clarified, looking more at the others than me. I sat forward a bit in my seat. "Castle and his family—I messed up."

I scoffed. "Wow, you really are a witch. Listen to yourself! What happened to his family wasn't a _mistake_ , moron, it was a _massacre_."

"You're admitting your office was a part of it," Matt said, rhetorically.

"Don't seem so surprised," Dani sat back, crossing her right leg over her left and crossing her arms. "No one in government is clean."

"But you weren't just a part of it, were you?" I asked, rhetorically. Reyes looked to me with a knowing expression. "It was a sting."

"Of course _you_ would know that," Reyes mumbled looking down again. The ADA stood nearby during the whole conversation. He stepped over with a sigh. "Ma'am, they need to know," he told Reyes. She gave a wave of her hand and turned around to face the window, putting her back to us.

"Last year the DA's office learned there was a new player in the drug trade—calls himself The Blacksmith," the ADA explained. "He wasn't gonna flood the market, he was gonna _be_ the market. And we were tracking kilos but this guy dealt in metric-tons. Product like that should've made him easy to find but he was a ghost. No sign of how he was getting the product into the country, where it was coming from—nothing. Then…one of the cop's we'd planted deep undercover got word that The Blacksmith was arranging a meet between three unaffiliated gangs."

"Dogs of Hell, Kitchen Irish, and the Mexican Cartel," Foggy added. I was slowly shaking my head in disapproval. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Well, I could. It was just a shock at the moment. The ADA nodded. "The Blacksmith wanted to broker a deal, they set the meet for Central Park mid afternoon- look, our guys were there, they were ready," he continued. "But the sting, it just- it went south."

"You didn't clear the park, did you?" Matt asked, rhetorically. He seemed appalled. Reyes looked up a minute. She sighed with a nod. "I thought about it. But I decided an empty park would show our hand," she answered, guilt ridden. "So, yes. I green-lit the operation. Civilian traffic and all."

"You are unbelievable!" I sat upright.

"Alison-" Matt shook his head.

"No- listen to this! Is she even human?" I glared at Reyes and she looked like a kicked puppy. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Because I don't think you do. You didn't meet the people you killed that day—I did. You're lucky we're in a more public setting, _lady_ , because if we weren't-"

"I know this is hard to hear, Miss Fletcher. Especially given your… _relationship_ with Castle. But it's hard for me as well," Reyes replied, keeping calm. "The Blacksmith didn't even show. Before we had a chance to move in…the gangs got rattled and…opened fire on each other. Our undercover was killed- and Castle's family." She shook her head at herself, leaning into her desk.

She seemed to regret it. But I wasn't about to paint her as the good guy. "So after that horrible decision, you made it worse. You tried to kill him and ruin us to save your own political butt-" Foggy stopped himself holding up a hand. "You know what, lady? You're on your own."

"Agreed," I nodded once and stood just as Foggy was about to head for the door.

"Wait- wait, please," Reyes stammered, quickly. "This is not about me anymore-" she dug into an orange envelope and pulled out a picture of Frank's head x-ray, the one that had a detailed look at the hole in his skull. She slapped it on the table. "-I found this in my _daughter's_ backpack before I took her to school."

I glanced at Dani as I sat back down, but she was already looking at me. I gave a shake of my head. "Where is your daughter now?" Dani asked, turning back toward Reyes.

"Upstate, New York—somewhere in a location I can never know about surrounded by men with guns," she was starting to tear up while she spoke. "Assigned to protect her…my baby girl…"

"Frank's not going to kill your family, Ms. Reyes. He doesn't kill kids- especially since he knows what that's like," I said, blandly.

"And I'm supposed to trust _your_ word on that?" Reyes's eyebrows rose at me. "I don't care how much pillow talk you shared with him, he is coming after _my child_." I rolled my eyes. She truly is certifiable. Frank would never kill her daughter—he doesn't do that. "What do you want from us?" Matt asked.

"If he contacts you, just let us know," she answered.

"You want us to break privilege?" Foggy asked.

"I want to make sure that nobody else gets hurt," she corrected. "Look, I…I know what I've done here. But please, I don't care about my job anymore. I just want to keep my family safe." Suddenly Matt started shoving, shouting, "GET DOWN!" Bullets started spraying into the room on a rapid fire. Matt tackled Karen out of the way. Dani pushed Foggy the other way but a bullet still hit him in the shoulder.

I dove straight down behind the desk. But not before a searing heat burned across my left upper arm. The only sound anyone could have possible heard was the loud echo of the gunfire. It lasted for a good long minute before tapering off to a complete stop. The ADA crawled up onto his knees and tried to peer out the window. But he stopped, staring at the desk. I couldn't see what he was staring at but I had a pretty good guess.

Foggy groaned from across the room. "I'm hit!" he wailed. I moved to get onto my knees and hissed at the pain in my arm. I gritted my teeth and crawled over to where Foggy was slumped. "You're gonna be fine, okay?" I told him, moving to his left side. Blood was splattered across his face. It was probably all Reyes's. "Just hold still, buddy." I shrugged off my sweater and wadded it up, then pressed it to the hole in his shoulder.

He audibly winced, then looked up at me with a hushed tone. "Was this Castle?"

"No," I firmly shook my head. "Trust me, it's not him."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"Bullets just tore through the DA's office AND the DA. This city is turning into a war zone," I said.

"You don't know that," Alison argued. I stood with her at the back of an ambulance. She was helping herself to the supplies in the back of it while the owner's were bagging and tagging. I'm sure that's illegal, but so are most of the things we do these days. I sighed and glanced around. My eyes landed on Foggy. He was at the other ambulance.

Matt stood with him as he got checked out. He's definitely going to the hospital. My eyes went up to the room we here just in. Not too many bullet holes were outside of the building. Then I turned around, slowly taking in the surrounding buildings. "This wasn't Frank."

I looked down at her. "I know. We just need to find out who's framing him." I looked back over at Foggy and Matt as Alison stood. They exchanged a few words and then Matt left. I sighed. Now where is he going? Oh, well. I don't want to know, I don't want to know. His life, not mine. Last night was…last night was probably a mistake. One that could've gotten us both killed. That's not going to happen again, I won't let it. Maybe I need to use a different weapon. One that gets the job done, but…just a little more shiny.

Alison started walking toward Foggy and I followed. Karen appeared out of the crowd, just as we got there. "Where's Matt going?" she asked.

"Who knows," Foggy said. He looked at me, almost pleading. He just got shot and now he's looking at me to fix this. I turned to the others, "Can you guys give us a minute?" Karen and Alison nodded and then walked away. I watched them leave and then turned to Foggy. "I can't."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"Foggy-"

"No, okay?"

"No, it's not. You don't understand, okay? And there's no way for you to." I put my hands in my coat pockets. "I can't do this anymore, I'm at my whit's end. I can't take it, I…" I paused and looked around. "So much has happened, and keeps happening. I don't have time to process any of it. Mary died and I can't grieve. You wanna know why? Because the world keeps falling apart EVERY time I think I've got it put back together. And I'm just…I'm paralyzed. In the field."

"What are you talking about?"

"Matt and I went out last night. We were in a fight and I couldn't move. I just stood there, holding my bow, while he got his butt kicked." Foggy's gaze went to the crowd. He looked understanding and sorry. "I need time to rebuild myself and that's something I don't have, so I am crumbling with this city." I sighed. "I'm broken, Foggy," it came out sounding more helpless than I wanted. "And, it doesn't change whether Matt's with me or not. I'm the only one who can fix me. And I can't save myself because everyone else needs saving." I stared at him as his eyes met mine. "And I'm the only one who can save them."

"But, why? Why you, Dani?"

I crossed my arms and thought. "I don't know." I looked around. "I need to go." I turned and took a few.

"I thought you were supposed to save yourself before others," Foggy called. I turned around. "Where are you going, Dani?"

"Home," I nodded. "If anyone asks, Lizzie's with Clint. I'll be on my cell."

"Which one?"

"Both." I turned and walked away. I headed for my car and then drove to my building. I pulled up out front and cut the engine. My hands on the steering wheel, I looked at the building and sighed. I opened the door and got out, slamming it before walking to the door. I walked inside and then to the stairs. I took the steps two at a time, making my way to the fifth floor.

I reached the top and then turned the corner. I saw my door and froze. Flashes of that night played in my head. I closed my eyes and sighed. I took a few deep breaths. I opened my eyes and then continued. I walked to the door and tore off the police tape. I put my hand on the knob, slowly turning it.

I pushed the door open, letting it swing. I looked in wide eyed, not sure what to expect. Everything looked the same. Everything. I walked in swallowing back the growing lump in my throat. My breathing became shaky, my heart rate quickened. All my senses were on high alert as adrenaline coursed through me.

I felt like one of those stupid kids that walks into a haunted cemetery at night with his friends, and then one by one his friends vanish until he's alone. Frantic and scared by every twitch of a leaf, thinking everything around him is out to get him. The room feels cold, the air is stale. I can make out the smell of rotting blood, but I quickly pretend I didn't.

I walked past the scene of the crime, around the chair I was tied to. My hand slightly bumped it as I past it and I jumped. I bit my lip, closing my eyes. I breathed heavily out my nose and then kept walking. I went into my office, sighing once I was out of the other room. I looked to the right into my bedroom. The closet was open.

The panel to my hide out was on the floor, the clothes scattered. Ward's goons did that while they were looking for my suit. For my bow. I sighed and looked away. I went to the computer and sat down in the chair. I opened the lap top lid and then waited for it to wake up. I typed in my password, the computer now bringing me to the desktop.

I clicked on the satellite icon at the bottom. It always takes a few minutes to load. I rubbed my hands against my face. I'm so tired…and done. I'm just done. A floor board creaked and I froze. My whole body went stiff. I looked at the door way and didn't see anyone. Without taking my eyes off the door, my hand slipped down to the top drawer.

I grabbed the handle and slowly pulled it out. I stopped when it was open far enough to stick my hand in. I pulled out my hand gun and stood. I tiptoed around the desk, very slowly sliding a bullet into the chamber. I walked to the door way and raised my gun. I stepped out into the main room. A man stood near the door.

I recognized him and was hit with a wave of emotions. I wanted to scream, get mad, cry, surrender and run away…maybe even turn the gun on myself. He stared at the wall where Mary was hung. Now it's just holes and blood. He turned and saw me. He looked saddened. He nodded toward me, "You greet all your guests with that?"

"No," I said, lowering it. "Just the escaped convicts." I tossed my arms in the air. "What are you doing here, Frank?"

"You never said this happened in your home," he pointed at the wall, walking toward me. He's been beaten. And recent, too. "I didn't know what you meant, about the news. Until I saw it." He glanced at the wall. His eyes looked at me. "I'm sorry."

I nodded, a closed mouth frown. "So am I." I turned and walked back into my office. "You didn't answer the question." I sat the gun on the desk and then sat down behind the computer. It was still loading. I looked up as Frank was walking in. He was looking around every corner, suspicious. Like he was expecting someone to jump out at him.

"I'm looking for the man who killed my family."

"Well, you already found the woman who put you in jail."

"That wasn't me."

"Of course not." I locked eyes with him, leaning back. "Do you realize how much of a coincidence it is, you breaking out of prison the night before the DA is shot to pieces? And, how'd you do that anyway? Huh? The prison break?" He looked away, his hands twitching. He looked from side to side like I put him on the spot.

"It doesn't matter, okay?"

"No, not okay." I glanced at the screen. Still loading. I looked back up. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was Fisk." His eyes landed on my faster than a fly on poo. "What? I have a brain, too. And, believe it or not, I do use it." He scoffed and looked away. "You can sit, macho man." I gestured to the chair in front of him. He looked at it and then me.

I looked at the screen. It finally loaded. I typed in the address for the court house as I saw him sit in my peripheral. I pressed enter and then waited again. "So," I sighed. He looked at me, still unsure. "You need to relax, general tight wad." I intertwined my fingers and then rested my arms on the top of my head, leaning back even more. "We're safe here. Well," I shrugged, "now."

"You ever find him?" he asked. "The man that did this." He nodded toward the other room. I shook my head. "You said there was a girl. Where is she?"

"She's at Alison's with my cousin," I stared at the desk. "Her name's Elizabeth. I'm sure you've seen her once or twice at the café."

"The baby Chase was with."

"Bingo."

"And Chase?" I looked at him. He was glaring daggers at me. I'm glad looks _don't_ kill. "What are you doing about that?"

"As soon as they get him into the foster system I have a…friend of a friend, who would be willing to take him. She's in the city. She has a radio talk show."

"What would that do?" he looked confused.

"That would allow Alison to see him, watch him grow up. It's not the best, but it's as good as we're going to get. The DA was the only one who could reverse it. And she's dead. Like, really dead." I looked down at my clothes with a light bulb moment. "In fact…I think I have some of her on me…" I stood and walked into my bedroom.

"Did you mean what you said?" I looked at Frank. He was standing, staring at me. "At the hospital." I refilled through my draw for a new shirt.

"When I promised I'd find who killed your family?" I glanced at him. I pulled out a shirt and closed the drawer. I walked to the bed, unfolding it. I tossed it on the bed, face down. "Or the part about you being there when they paid?"

"Both," he half grunted. I took off my jacket and tossed it on the bed. Then I pulled off my shirt. I saw movement and looked to my right. Frank turned away. "Sorry," I said. "I'm used to changing in front of someone who can't see me anyway." I tossed the old, bloody shirt and then slipped on the new one. I pulled my hair out of my shirt, staring at Frank. "You're clear, Picasso."

He turned around. "Picasso?"

"Yeah. Artist from the early nineteen hundreds…?"

"I know who he is," he said, looking confused. I chuckled and then walked past him to the computer. I clicked on a few things, zooming in and out. I typed in the date and time I wanted and then pressed enter. I sat back, looking at him. He was in the same spot, staring at me dumbfounded.

"I meant every word," I said. I put my elbow on the armrest and then rested my head on my fist. "I'll help you find him." He sucked in a breath, standing up straighter. He looked to the right and then back at me. "And when I do, he's all yours. You can kill him, cut him into pieces, I don't care."

Frank sat back down in the chair. "Really?" he asked disbelieving.

"Really really," I nodded.

"And where's Red? Does your boyfriend know about this?"

I thought back to the court room, when Matt called him Frank. "He's not my boyfriend, anymore," I said. "Long story. But here's the other thing…I'll be helping you find this guy, but I might need to take a few diversions."

"For what?"

"There's a new group in town. They have something up their sleeve, some evil plan. It involves these five kids we rescued from them, but we don't know how. We have them stashed at the hospital. But I'm sure someone's coming for them." He nodded, processing. "But, for now…let's begin our search. I think we need to start by finding 'The Blacksmith'."

"Where'd you here that name?" he asked, suddenly on edge.

"The DA. Just before she died. And, you? Prison?" I asked. He grunted his reply, thinking. "Rock on," I nodded.


	26. Partners in Crime

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

 _Let's go to the Bulletin_ , she said. _It will be fun_ , she said. I sighed heavily, walking into the Bulletin offices behind Karen. This was a bad idea. I would only get more guff from Ellison because of this. Of course, Karen needed proof that it wasn't Frank. And…I think I almost did, too. It was all too coincidental. I mean, the very day after I tell him about Chase, he's suddenly out on the streets again?

He was not the happiest camper in the cabin when I left him. _Good job, Alison. Provoke a killer_. It's kind of what I do. Ellison held up his arms as he walked toward us. "Tell me you were there," he said, stopping a foot from us.

"Yeah, we were there," Karen nodded.

"Well, do you guys need anything? A med eval, a blanket-?"

I inhaled and pointed a finger at him. "Dumb question."

He nodded. "Right. Was this Frank Castle?" he asked, mostly looking at me. I didn't know what to say. I wanted to say no. Everything in me was begging for it. But I couldn't, because Karen answered first. "That's what we're trying to figure out," she nodded once. "If Castle did this— _if_ —he's not gonna stop."

"Well, we gotta stay ahead of him. He already took out the DA-"

"Allegedly," I shook my head.

"Fine," Ellison sighed. "Who'd be next on the short list?" Both Karen and Ellison looked to me. I sighed heavily and ran my hand back through my hair, thinking. I shook my head a little, throwing a hand up in a gesture. "Probably the people that crossed him," I wrapped my arms around myself. "Maybe the medical examiner that falsified the records?"

"Tepper. He's probably still holding up in that rat hole we found him in last time," Ellison agreed.

Karen nodded. "Exactly. We were gonna go over there now."

"Wait, what?" I eyed Karen.

"Not alone, you aren't," Ellison said, not seeming to notice my question. He sighed heavily and grabbed his coat off the nearby coat rack. "Let's do this." We took my car—mostly because that's the car Karen and I took to get here. I didn't know where we were supposed to go so Karen gave me directions from the passenger seat. My heart sank at the sight of police cruisers outside of the hotel. I pulled into a space beside one of them and cut the engine.

 _No. No, no, no_. I quickly got out and shut my door, stifling a plea from Karen to wait. My heart was thumping in my ears now. I took quick steps into the building and through the halls. All I had to do was follow the occasional cop passing by. It lead me right to the room. My feet froze in the doorway, my hand instantly clapping over my mouth. There was a bloodied sheet draped over an obvious body center room, at the end of the bed.

We were too late. The medical examiner was dead. Shot multiple times by the look of it. "Geez, Fletcher," Ellison mumbled hurrying down the hall toward me, Karen right behind him. I turned to them as they slowed to a stop a few feet from the door. I shook my head, dropping my hand. "He's gone," I said, stepping away. "One body, many bullets—it's just like at the courthouse."

"Alison, I'm sure it's not Frank-" Karen shook her head.

"Are you kidding me? All the signs point right to him," Ellison interjected. "You wanna report the news, or really get to the truth? The first step is you gotta put aside your personal feelings. And I mean about everything. Now, I know how much it hurts-"

"I'm fine," I shook my head, turning to them. Karen looked at me sympathetically.

She looked to Ellison. "You think we projected?"

"Yeah. Though, why you would want to see good in the man that pulls the trigger is beyond me," Ellison sighed, glancing back at the room. He cleared his throat as he turned back to us. "Do either of you know anyone else who might be in danger?"

"Uh…his nurse, he's a janitor now-" Karen started.

"Okay so listen, you gotta get those names. We have to hand everything we have to the NYPD," Ellison said. "We have to save as many people as we can." I looked down the hall, at the flashing lights from the windows inside the ME's room. This is insane. Why would Frank do any of this? Was he really that mad that he would kill the DA and this medical examiner? It's not like him. But I'm starting to rethink everything he ever told me.

I groaned and looked back up at them. "Fine, fine…Karen's files are at the Café, I'll run by a get them."

"Um, wait- just…hold on a second," Ellison held up his hands. "It's not safe for you of all people to be going somewhere alone right now."

I gave him a look. "Seriously? Ellison, I own a gun—I can protect myself."

"Yeah, but can you actually pull the trigger?" he questioned, rhetorically.

I sighed in frustration and threw my hands up in surrender, backing up. "If he comes at me that way, sure, I'll pull the trigger. But he won't, so I'm going."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

We ran up the stairs as fast as we could. I was on the phone with Matt when The Hand attacked the hospital. Thankfully, we were nearby. I saw the numbers for the right floor and then pushed through the door. I stopped to get my bearings. I nodded, out of breath. "This way." I ran left, down the hall. Then we made a sharp right. "You didn't have to come," I said over my shoulder.

"Well, I wasn't waiting in the car," Frank replied. After a few more turns, we burst through a set of doors. We slammed on our breaks, nearly toppling over. Three ninjas stood ten feet in front of us. I could make out Daredevil fighting two more in the room to our right. The one The Hand's victims were in. I sighed. "Told you there'd be ninjas."

I grabbed my bow and expanded it. I pulled an arrow out of my quiver and slid it into place, as I heard Frank cocking his guns. I brought up the bow and slightly laid it on its side. Time slowed and I heard Mary scream. I saw Ward releasing the string, pulling back another arrow. I heard my heart thumping in my ears, about to pop out of my chest. I heard each breath I took. I looked down at the bow, the tip of the arrow. I looked back up and saw the ninjas slowly moving toward me, drawing their swords.

Another scream rang out in my ears, another flash of that night. My breathing slowed, I closed my eyes. I counted each beat of my heart, my fingers adjusting on the string. I opened my eyes and pulled back the string. Reality resumed, cashing down on top of me. It was like someone unpaused a TV. The ninjas were just a few feet away when I released my arrow.

As I thought, it was deflected with a sword. Somehow they even deflected Frank's bullets. I walked forward, firing another arrow. The ninja in front of me swung at it, leaving himself open for the next arrow. It lodged in his side and he fell. The next one came at me, sword raised above his head.

I grabbed my bow by both ends and held it up, the sword slamming into it with tremendous force. I leaned back to counter the weight. I thrust the bow up and then slammed my foot into his gut. He arched slightly, as I swung the bow to the left. His blade slipped off of it and then I spun right, driving the end of the bow into his face.

He flew back, crashing to the ground. Frank charged forward as I reloaded. He put a bullet in the head of the one I just fought and then moved to fight a ninja coming from the other side of the hall. I ducked into the room with Daredevil, just missing a dagger to the head from Frank's direction.

I stood and then quickly bent back, a blade flying over me where my head was. I stood and grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the sword. I pivoted and slammed my left foot into the back of his head. He stumbled forward. I loaded an arrow and then shot to my right. Another one approached, deflecting the arrow. He charged, pointy end first. I sighed and dropped the bow.

I grabbed his hands, both on his sword, and spun. I redirected his charging force and drove his sword into the ninja I was just fighting as he was getting to his feet. I kept my left hand on the sword, jamming my right elbow back and into his face repeatedly. With each hit he took a step back. I pulled the sword out of his hand, spun and then drove it into him. I ripped it out of him and then watched him fall.

I quickly looked around the room. More ninjas had come to help end the fight. But the victims were gone. Frank walked into the room, shooting the first ninja he saw. He had blood on his cheek, but looked okay. Daredevil was locked in a fight with two ninjas. I took a step forward and then stopped.

I reacted before I heard the sound, swinging the sword up in a wide arc. The dagger tinged off the sword, clattering to the ground, as I brought the sword in front of me, both hands on the handle. I stepped forward and was locked in a battle. I was always good with a sword, but it's been years since I held one let alone fought. Oh, well. Just like riding a bike. Right?

The sound of gunfire, punching, and swords clashing filled my ears. I tried to keep an eye on the others. I didn't want to swing and hit one of them. But I didn't see the ninja coming until he flew in front of me, taking out my sparring partner. I turned and saw Daredevil. He was the one who threw him. I heard the window open and quickly spun that way. Another ninja was crawling in. I ran up to him and drove my sword into his chest. He gasped and fell back.

I turned around as another one charged me. I deflected his swing and then blocked the next, our swords locked. He pressed hard and I was forced into defense. His blade was slowly slipping down mine, getting closer to the handle. I pushed harder trying not to lose my grip. Suddenly, his head slammed into mine. I stumbled back as he lowered his sword. He drove it forward.

I saw him coming, with a millisecond to react. I brought my sword down to deflect it, and only partly succeeded. The blade tore through my side with the clashing of our swords. A strangled cry escaped me, his sword lodging in the wall behind me. I heard two gunshots and the ninja dropped.

I saw Frank on the other side of the room, lowering his gun, pinned against the wall. I looked down at my side. Half the blade was imbedded in the suit. But I think only half of that was in my flesh. I stepped to the side, pulling it out. A ninja came out of nowhere and kicked me, hard. I flew back and out the open window.

I pulled out my grappling hook and launched it at the building. It caught on the open window I was pushed out of. I immediately stopped falling down and was headed for the building. I turned and saw I was headed for a window. I sighed and then brought up my feet. I crashed through the window. Letting go of the hook, I slammed onto the ground, landing on my side. The hurt one, no less.

I groaned and slowly rolled onto my back. That was the first time I've done that. And I can honestly say…it'll be the last. I grabbed my side and winced. I was sore all over. I hate gravity. I rolled over onto my stomach and then pushed myself up with one hand. I got to my knees, feeling the hot blood seeping through my hand. I put one foot on the ground and then braced myself.

I sighed and then pushed up. I was half way up when I felt a hand grab my arm and pull me up the rest of the way. Once I was fully standing, I looked to my left and saw Frank. "You okay?"

I pulled back my hand and glanced at the blood, then quickly covered it back up. "I've been worse."

"Now _that,_ I believe."

"Where's Daredevil?"

"Don't know. Thought he was with you," he said. I shook my head and sighed. He had a small slice across his cheek and blood dripped from his lip. I glanced him over once, just to make sure there were no puncture wounds he was hiding. I saw a slice in the arm of his jacket, but that was it. "What?"

"Just making sure I return you in one piece," I said. He chuckled.

"Come on." He still had a hold of my arm, leading me out of the room. I glanced down and saw him holding my bow in his other hand. I looked forward and smiled slightly. This guy is one hard nut to crack. One second he's making people unrecognizable, and the next…he comes looking for me when we get separated in a fight AND remembers to grab my bow on the way?

"In a way, I'm surprised you came out of that as clean as you did," I looked at him. A smile crossed his face, vanishing as fast as it came. "And then on the other hand…" I thought. "How many rounds do you have left?"

He glanced at me. "Two."

"That explains it. Two out of forty. I'm surprised it took that many, but then kinda not."

"I'm surprised you had that many rounds to begin with."

"Don't be. Guns were my thing before the bow," I said. "But I loved the shotgun. And not the semi, those things are for lazy people." He smiled. "I mean…a true shotgun. One that you have to cock after each fire, giving you that thrill of putting everything into it. And, one where after five rounds the barrel starts smoking as you smell the gun powder…" He shook his head and I smiled. "What?"

"You're something else, Dylan."

"You have no idea," I said, looking away. Then I quickly looked back, pointing a finger. "And it's Angel, to you."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I pushed through the doors of the Café after finally getting it unlocked, then started straight back for the stairs. I flicked on the lights as I passed the switch and hurried up the steps two-at-a-time. My mind was racing, trying to remember where I'd left those stupid files. My room? No. Maybe the living room? I raced across the carpet and sighed with relief. There they were, spread across the coffee table. I quickly started rounding them up.

I can't even remember why they were such a mess. My whole body tensed at the sound of the bell jingling downstairs. It only took a second before I heard steps on the stairs. Adrenaline was starting to pump hard into my veins. I knew Dani and Matt were doing vigilante stuff, and Karen and Ellison were off investigating who knows what. That only left one or two people that could be coming up those stairs. I didn't like my odds.

The top step whined it's familiar protest and I whirled, quickly pulling my gun from under my jacket and aiming it at whoever it happened to be. My chest heaved in anticipation. But the person at the top of the stairs was who I secretly expected to see. Frank instantly stopped, not taking another step toward me. "Alison…put the gun down," he said, calmly.

I tightened my grip on the firearm. This was too hard, but I couldn't believe he was innocent either. "Let me see your hands," I demanded, trying to stop the tremble in my voice. "Frank—put your hands up or I swear I will shoot you."

"Okay. See? I'm not gonna hurt you," he assured, slowly holding up his hands. He took a step toward me and I racked a bullet into the chamber, causing him to stop. "Put the gun down, Alison. It wasn't me. I would never hurt you, you know that."

"Do I?" I readjusted my grip, taking a deep breath.

He took another slow, cautious step. "It wasn't me, Alison."

"Take one more step…and I _will_ shoot you," I promised, blinking away the haze. "Don't think I've never done this before, Frank. Go ask the last guy that kept walking—he's six feet under. What is it _you_ say before you shoot? One batch, two batch…penny and dime?" Hurt flashed across his face and I instantly regretted saying that. But I needed to make sure he knew that I was serious.

Everything in me was telling me he was telling the truth. But what I've seen today has been arguing otherwise. "Hands behind your head," I said, firmly. My hands were shaking, trembling, threatening to betray me. He eyed me for a slightly bewildered moment. But then he nodded once and slowly moved his hands up, locking his fingers behind his head. "Where were you today? And don't you _dare_ lie to me, Castle."

"I was at Dani's building, okay? All day. I only left about an hour ago to help your vigilante friends with one of their crises at the hospital," he explained, calmly. I exhaled. _Come on, Alison. Pick one. You either believe him or you don't_. My heart felt like it was literally on fire from the burning in my chest. My eyes were starting to well up. _Not now, please_. I sighed in indecision. "I'm not going to hurt you, Aly."

That caught my attention. I narrowed my eyes just slightly, staring at him. Why would he call me Aly? He never does that. The only time I've ever gotten that from him was at the cemetery. I inhaled, "Just…just tell me you didn't do it."

"I didn't do it," he repeated. "I _promise_."

I let myself aim the gun down, dropping my hands at my sides. My insides felt like they'd been scooped out with a spoon. I shoved the safety on and slid the gun back into my belt. I opened my mouth to speak. Just then, a pattering thumping caught my attention. Frank quickly looked to his left, at the living room windows. "Get down!"

He was across the living room in a second, practically tackling me to the ground, as the sound of breaking glass and bullets being fired filled the room. I was close enough that he'd managed to shove me against the end of the couch, covering my right side with his own body as a human shield. I squeezed my eyes shut as the bullets kept coming. Hundreds of them fired into the room. The wall across from us was covered in holes.

Finally the firing stopped, and Frank moved from me to peer over the armrest of the couch. "Who was _that_?" I practically shrieked, pushing myself up a little more to sit. Frank sighed heavily and dropped back down below the couch. He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice full of concern as his eyes scanned me. I shook my head. He continued, "You need to get somewhere safe, okay? Don't worry about me- just go."

"Frank, I- I'm so sorry I thought it was you-"

"Hey," he stopped me, sliding a hand onto my left cheek. "It doesn't matter to me, yeah? All I care about is that you're safe." My whole body was shaking. This day honestly couldn't get much worse. I rose up the few inches between us and pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back almost instantly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me close, practically pulling me into his lap.

A warm feeling washed over my body at the contact. I slung an arm around his neck. The fingertips of my free hand raked through his hair. It'd gotten considerably longer than the last time we kissed, but it was still on the short side of haircuts. He pulled back, leaving me breathless, and rested his forehead against mine. "I'll find you," he said, quietly, like the words were meant just for me. "You gotta go."

"I love you," I said, pulling back enough to see his face.

His eyes met mine. "I love you, too."

I met his lips one more time before stumbling to my feet. I grabbed the files off the coffee table, stepping over hundreds of shards of broken glass strewn about the carpet, and then hurried down the stairs to the door. Police station, here I come.


	27. Brownie Points

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, lifting my head off the table as I heard the door open. Mahoney stepped into the small square room with coffee and some papers. "We're almost done," he assured. He sat the coffee down in front of me and I took it as he sat. "Just wanna go over your statement one more time. You're sure you didn't see anything unusual outside your Café?"

I took a sip from the coffee and nodded. "Not that I remember."

"And you're sure you didn't see Castle?" he questioned, lightly.

"Like I said three times already, I didn't see anything. Bullets started flying and I hid behind the couch," I said, looking at him tiredly. "I didn't _see_ anything."

He nodded. "Smart. Powell, I think we're done here. Bring your car around." The officer at the door turned and left the room, the door falling shut behind him. I took a longer drink of the coffee, let the hot liquid burn its way down my throat, then sat back. Mahoney closed his file and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "You alright?" I asked.

"It's been a long night," he answered.

"What are you doing to find Frank?" I asked, curiously.

"You mean besides plastering his face over every TV station and news paper?" he looked up at me, eyebrows raised. "The DA and the medical examiner are dead, the same idiot takes a shot at you—and so far nobody in this entire city has seen a thing." He gave me a look, slightly leaning forward. He knew I was lying about what happened. He was just waiting for me to spill.

I stared back at him with a plain expression, my eyes not moving as I brought the coffee cup up to my lips to take a drink. He sighed heavily and sat back. "We'll get him," he said, moving on. "I'm just glad you decided to take police protection."

I nodded a little, putting the cup down. "Yeah…me, too." When, in reality, I was only doing this because Frank wanted me to. He wanted me safe. If this is what it takes, so be it. Mahoney stood. "Powell and Reid will escort you to a safe location," he explained, and I got up from my chair. "We'll keep someone posted outside twenty-four seven."

He opened the door to the room and stopped, turning to me. "If you remember anything- and I mean _anything_ , Fletcher. You come find me," he said, surely. I nodded once, firmly, and I walked past him through the door. The two officers lead the way outside the building. It was a bit nippy so I zipped up my jacket as we started down the sidewalk toward the cruiser waiting for us. "Alison." I looked up from my jacket.

Matt stood beside a taxi cab next to the sidewalk, looking my way. "Um, he's a friend," I told the officers. "Just give me a minute?" They nodded and continued to the car, just a couple feet away. I walked over to Matt and stood a foot from him, crossing my arms. "Why are you here?" I asked, trying to act neutral.

"Brett reached out; he said someone shot at you? Why didn't you call me?" he asked, concerned.

I laughed humorlessly, stepping back. "You really want me to answer that question?"

"This isn't a joke, Alison," he shook his head.

"You don't think I know that?" I shot back, raising my voice just a little. "Matt, I don't need you right now, okay? I can take care of myself."

He scoffed. "Obviously not."

"You weren't there for me when I needed you—now is not the time to try and make up for that," I argued, firmly. He sighed heavily and looked around, obviously trying to calm himself. If I wanted to I could rip into him right now, but I don't have time for that. He turned back to me. "Alison, if Frank wants you dead then, yeah, you need a lot more help than a couple cops," he reasoned.

"Except he doesn't want me dead. He saved my life last night—even after I threatened to shoot him. Okay? So just…back off." His expression was a mixture of hurt and shock. But I didn't care. I turned and went to the police cruiser, sliding into the back seat. They took me to the Travel Inn hotel. I'd been there a couple times years ago, but the interior had changed quite a bit.

They already had set up a room, but I had to wait for them to check it. So I stood outside with Powell while Reid went inside to look around. It took him a long minute, but he came back out and handed me the key card. "It's clear," he nodded.

"If you need anything—anything at all—we'll be just outside," Powell said.

"Okay…thank you. I really just need sleep." I stepped inside the room and they headed down the hall. I dropped my bag on the floor and paused. The elevator door dinged and I peered outside. The cops filed into the elevator and the doors closed, going down. I exhaled in relief. Little did those cops know, I texted the address to Frank's burner on the way here.

My phone vibrated and I startled, lurching back into the room. I quickly dug it out and opened the text message. He was here, in the garage. I slid my phone away and quickly stepped outside the room, closing the door behind me. I shuffled down the hall and hooked a right, into the stairwell. Then a couple flights later I was at the ground floor. Thankfully for me the layout of the building wasn't too complicated.

I pushed through the stairwell door, into a hallway by a couple elevators, and started through to the open door on the other end. Sure enough, just outside the door, my car was parked. I trotted down the steps into the garage and went straight across to the car. I glanced around, then opened the passenger side door and slid in. Music was playing that I could hear when I shut the door.

I recognized the song and gave Frank a knowing look. "You went through Chase's CDs?"

"We used to, uh…we used to sing along to it, Lisa and I," he replied, lost in thought. My shoulders dropped a little, my eyes softening. He huffed a chuckle. "Can you imagine me doing that?" I paused, genuinely thinking about it. He glanced at me, the ghost of a smile on his face. I made my lips curve into a small smile. "Yeah, I think so," I bobbed my head in a nod.

"Think you would've liked me before all this?" he asked, reminiscently curious.

I nodded once, firmly. "Definitely."

I didn't even have to think twice about that one. Before and after the park, Frank was still Frank. His base code never changed so he was still the same person on the inside. It was just buried by guilt, pain, and a whole lot of anger now. He leaned toward me and I instinctively leaned in to meet him half way, his lips melding with mine. After a moment, he pulled back enough to see my face.

"You ready?" he asked. I nodded and he started the car, then pulled out of the garage.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"How long have you two been working together?" The last twenty minutes has been pure silence. So I wasn't too surprised when he spoke. It's just what he said. We were camped out, hiding in the walls of a construction zone downtown. We were waiting for ADA Towers to walk to his car. You know. Snag him on the way, try not to make a scene of it.

"I didn't break him out, _Matt_ ," I practically spit out his name, "if that's what you mean." He recoiled, looking like he'd been yelled at enough to last a life time. Which better not be true. I have plenty more where that came from, just waiting to use it. I sighed and crossed my arms. We stood about five feet apart. Our new normal. "He came to me."

He nodded, thinking. "So…you're going along with it? The killing." He spoke cautiously, but I knew he was serious.

"I don't kill for fun."

"Right." He squared his jaw. "Only those who 'deserve it'," he mocked. I had half a mind to slap him. I rolled my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'm not doing this with you," I said.

"What?"

"THIS. Arguing." I sighed. "I mean…what are we fighting for, Matt? All the time, that's all we do. I know that we had our disagreements, but…"

"It's because we set a goal for ourselves we couldn't reach," he said. I looked at him. "We promised something we couldn't keep, and, I think we knew it. Then we tore ourselves apart when we did." I was dumbfounded. I think he's right. We promised not to lie and yet that's all I've been doing. Starting when I covered up Wesley's death for Alison. "Our relationship was built on lies…why didn't we think there'd be any between us?"

I crossed my arms and thought. "You might be right," I said. "But that doesn't change what happened. And it doesn't give you a free pass back into my life."

"Back?"

"We're done." I tried to keep my voice even. He looked like I slapped him. "At least for now. But…" I sighed. "I need to find me. I need to find Ward, find a new office and reopen, figure out how to be a mom, arrange a funeral…" I paused. "…remember what I'm fighting for and make peace with what I've lost."

He slightly nodded. I checked the time on my phone. I looked back up. Daredevil was now looking off to the side. The ADA's coming. He walked to the opening in the fence and then waited. He grabbed Towers as he walked by, pulled him in and slammed him against the fence. The guy was freaking out, borderline tears.

"It's better me than Frank Castle," Daredevil said. I stepped up next to him. Towers turned, trying to see us. Daredevil forced him back against the fence. "You," Towers said frantically. "You're a wanted criminal. You killed that girl."

"Not as wanted as you'll be, when they can't find your body," I said. "But you can avoid that by telling us about the Blacksmith."

"How did you hear about him?"

"All you need to know," Daredevil said, "is that Frank Castle wants him and he's going to turn this city into a war zone to find him." He's just speculating. He has no idea I'm working with Frank to find the man that killed his family. Which means I'm lying to him again. Great. But, this shouldn't count because we're not together. There, see? Brownie points.

"Okay, what do you need?"

"Everything and anything," I said. "Nationality, allies, favorite crayon color…? We want it all."

"I don't have it," he said. "He never had anything more than his code name, that's what makes him so high value. He's allusive. Look, I'm telling you, three government agencies couldn't find him. The only lead we had-" he stopped and shook his head.

"Say it," Daredevil pressed.

"Reyes was looking into the Blacksmith's competition. Alright? There's a new rival on the scene. Doesn't move half the product, but…but it's still more than everyone else. Look, Reyes figured if anyone has a clue about the Blacksmith's identity it'd be his worst enemy."

"Give me the name."

"We don't have one."

"Well, you're not good for much, are you?" I asked.

"But…but our intel gave us a source point."

"Where?" Daredevil asked.

"Look, the only place where drugs and corruption rival your neighborhood…China Town."

"Alright, good." He let him go. Then we walked over to the guy's suitcase on the ground. Towers turned around slowly, arms up. He was shaking. He opened his eyes and saw me. "Hi, there," I said. He jumped back, and I laughed. Daredevil tossed him his suitcase. He caught it and fell back into the fence.

"Where ever you were going," Daredevil said. "You stay there." I offered a mock wave and then we walked out of there like we owned the place. Let's face it. We do.


	28. Rad Dudes with Bad Tudes

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, looking at Frank across the small table between us. He was watching the street quite intensely. "And here you were saying _I_ needed to relax," I commented, semi-sarcastically. I took a sip of my coffee and his eyes shifted to mine. I raised my eyebrows expectantly. "Because you do. _I'm_ the escaped convict, remember?" he replied, calmly. "It's _my_ job to be keeping an eye on things."

I titled my head in an expression. "I can do more than just sit here and look pretty."

"Let's not do that," he suggested, turning his head more toward me.

I gave him a look. "But _you_ did it anyway."

"Okay." He sighed, giving an almost flippant nod, looking away.

"Why do you care who does the heavy lifting?" I asked, genuinely curious. "I own a gun, and I know how to use it. It's not like I'm defenseless."

"Because I love you and I want to protect you. This is _my_ mess—I'm not letting you get hurt trying to clean it up, okay?" he replied, looking back at me. The look in his eyes was intense, focused. I knew he meant what he said. It didn't stop me from wanting to help more, but it was enough to shut me up. It was quiet between us for the longest time. It was back to watching the street and pretending not to notice what I did.

I sighed and looked down at the half empty basket of fries a few inches from my coffee. When we arrived, I said I wasn't hungry. But Frank ordered for me anyway and when the food got here I couldn't stop myself. Stress-eating is starting to become my super power. That, and ignoring the obvious. I should get a medal. My stomach seemed to turn at the idea of eating now, so I shifted my eyes to my mug.

It was a solid ten minutes of quiet. I was beginning to think he was ignoring me. Then Frank suddenly asked, "Who was the last guy that kept walking?"

I glanced up from my coffee, pausing. I knew I should've said that at the Café. _Nice job, Alison. Incriminate yourself even further_. Instead of not seeing me at all, now his eyes were burning a hole through me. I swallowed. "Uh…my ex."

"Who was he?" he asked, neutrally. He took a drink from his coffee and I took that second to gather my thoughts. He probably already knew that I was the one that killed him. What could be the harm in telling him my war story? I mean, I've heard all of his. _Well, for one, he could cease to like you anymore because you're a murderer_. Then again killing people is what he does. Would it really bother him that much? Probably not.

I exhaled, tightening my fingers around the ceramic mug in front of me. "James Wesley—he worked for Wilson Fisk."

His eyes were instantly on me, a mixture of surprise and seriousness spread thin across his features. I rounded my eyes in an expression and chuckled nervously, "I know, it was bad. What can I say? I was nineteen, fresh outta high school…he was older, and charming, and had lots of money. I fell right into that trap. I only found out it was a trap when it was too late." I shrugged a little.

"Was he abusive?" he asked, his tone almost curious. He looked to be bracing himself for my answer—focused eyes, tense posture, soft features. I nodded slowly and his eyes shifted down as he sighed through his nose, readjusting his position. He looked up and out at the street for a moment. Then he turned back to me. His eyes seemed to be having a hard time staying in one place—especially when that one place was _me_.

"What happened?"

"Uh, well…" I inhaled, exhaled. "I got pregnant when we were dating and I made the mistake of telling him about it. He'd only been mentally abusive until then. He wrote me a check and told me to 'take care of it'. But I said no…and he tried to kill me. I ran and I thought I lost him—until he resurfaced last year. He claimed to be the good guy now but…I didn't believe him. I mean, why would I, after what he did? One night, he kidnapped me and took me to some warehouse. Said it was to protect me. I didn't believe _that_ either."

I shook my head at myself, scoffing at the thought, staring into my coffee. That almost endless seeming, black liquid. Might as well just rip off the band aid. _Just say it, Alison_. I sighed heavily in indecision and forced myself to look back up at Frank. "I told him to stop and he wouldn't listen—he wouldn't stop walking—and…I don't know what happened, I just…pulled the trigger," I continued, struggling to speak at all.

I couldn't make my voice loud enough. "Sounds to me like self-defense. You were scared, he was out of his skull, you shot him—no one's fault but his," he said, with a small shrug. His head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing a bit. "So why are you acting like you pulled a Punisher?"

It honestly surprised me to get that reaction. It was a relief that I desperately needed. I chuckled a little at the term and shook my head, glancing out the window. I paused, "I guess I just…I should've believed him, you know? All the signs were there—he was telling the truth, and it was so obvious...to everyone but _me_. He shouldn't have died that night."

His eyebrows rose, giving me an almost dumbfounded look. "Even after what he _did_ to you?"

"Oh, trust me, he deserved a lot worse than death," I assured, sitting back a bit. "But it wasn't what I wanted, killing him. And it shouldn't have been me that did it."

"If it were up to me, that piece of trash would've been in the ground the second he laid a hand on you," he said, seriously. He leaned back in his seat, turning his head to scan the street again. There was no denying that he was completely genuine in his statement. My eyes were stuck on his for a moment. He wasn't even looking at me, but I couldn't look away. He had no idea how long I'd spent crying over James.

How horrible I felt after what I'd done. But he just shrugged it off, like it was no big deal—something that happens every day. He didn't care that I killed someone in cold blood. It caused me to smile a little, glancing down. I looked back up at him after a second. "Thank you," I nodded a little. His eyes switched left, landing on mine. "Really, I…I needed to hear that."

He eyed me a moment. "Why didn't you shoot _me_?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it, thinking. Why didn't I? Did I not want to make the same mistake twice? Yes. Was I not even sure Frank was the bad guy? Yes. But neither of those seemed to fit in my mind. In the pit of my stomach was a seed of realization swirling with a sinking boat of fear. Though a spark of joy came from my thoughts, it felt like I was about to suffocate.

I inhaled against the constriction of my rib cage, opening my mouth again. "There are probably a lot of long winded excuses I could use. I think I'd just be wasting time, though," I said, inwardly stalling. It was hard to focus on words when his eyes were so intensely scrutinizing mine. "Honestly, Frank, I...I've gotten so much flack for all of this and it would be a lot easier for me to just say goodbye and walk away. But I can't."

"Why not?" he asked, like saying I couldn't was absurd, sitting back. "Like you said, it would be so much easier if you walked away."

"Because I don't want to _lose_ you. You're the one good thing in my life that hasn't left me," my voice dropped a little at the last bit. Frank was watching me closely, his eyes scanning me, trying to see if I was lying. But I wasn't. "And, yeah, there's all this violence and guns and people trying to kill us—but I wouldn't trade it for _anything_."

His eyes looked down at the table, his features completely relaxed in thought. My insides were wound tighter than a rubber band ball. They were just waiting to snap, and they would, too, if he didn't respond fast enough. He looked up at me. There was just a hint of a glossed over tint to his eyes. They were reflecting the light, like they held just a little too much water. "You really mean that?"

"Yeah…" my fingers crawled across the table top to find his, latching on as they intertwined. "I do."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

A guy walked past me, completely oblivious. We were in China Town, cracking names and taking skulls. We landed on a drycleaner's. Snuck in, as usual. No one ever uses the front door these days. I smirked, slowly following the man. He spoke…Chinese, I think, into his walkie. He stopped and continued talking. Daredevil jumped out of hiding and knocked him out, with ease, tossing the gun.

I continued as he finished. I heard someone coming and ducked to the side, around a square support beam. My bow was drawn, an arrow ready. I waited for him to get a little closer. He had his gun drawn, seeing his past out friend. I take one step to shoot…when my phone rings. Suddenly, Boom Clap by Charli XCX started blasting like we were at a stinking concert. "Oh, my goodness," I sighed.

The guy turned toward me and fired his semiautomatic. I rounded the post to the right, coming out on the other side. I aimed and fired, shooting the gun out of his hands. Daredevil jumped in and took over, the song still playing. I really should've had that on vibrate. And I usually do! Figures…the one time I don't.

I quickly rifled for the phone. I found it, quickly switching on the earpiece in my mask. Clint helped me…acquire the things I needed for it and then Potter put it in. It's completely sealed off. Meaning, no matter how hard he tries, Matt can't listen in. Best invention ever. I glanced up. Daredevil was staring at me, standing over the guy.

"I know," I sighed. "It's Alison." I accepted the call, sliding the phone away. "I'm a little busy." We started walking to the back. I heard a sigh on the other end. "Did you find anything?" I recognized Frank's voice and sighed. Actually it was more of a grunt in annoyance.

"No," I pulled out an arrow and slid it into place. "Nothing we didn't know before."

"'We'? Red with you?"

"Surprisingly, yes." I heard a door open ahead and took cover in the hanging clothes. Daredevil went left, slowly approaching it. Frank was talking but I wasn't hearing what he was saying. "Yeah, just…hold on." I slowly walked down the aisle. Two guys appeared from a secrete hatch in the floor. Daredevil jumped the first guy, kicking the second back.

I stepped out and shot the second in the knee. I jammed my knee up into his chin and then back handed him with the bow. I straightened, breathing heavily. "Sorry about that," I said into the ear piece. "Where were we? Oh, yeah. Where are you?"

"I'm going down," Daredevil said. You can't wait TWO minutes?!

"Okay," I said. He turned and walked down the stairs.

"We're at a diner. You?" Frank asked.

"China Town."

"Why?"

"We're looking for the Blacksmith's enemy. Which is supposedly here. If we press hard enough, it could lead us to him. Or, to another clue. How are thing's there?"

"Fine."

"That's code for it's not, right?" I sighed.

"Yep."

"Need me to come down there?"

"No. You keep looking." Frank hung up the phone.

" _Rude_." I clicked off the ear piece and then headed down the stairs, bow at the ready. I closed the door behind me and then continued. The stairs didn't go down far. It was just two flights. I walked down the first and then made a sharp left turn. Daredevil was talking with an old Asian woman. One I recognized. Gao.

I walked down the remaining steps and stopped next to Daredevil. She sat about ten feet in front of us, behind a table, painting. She was perfectly calm. A younger Asian woman sat not too far behind her. "And his Angel," Gao said, looking at me. "I've been hearing…rumors about you. Tell me, are they true?"

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Frank slid my cell phone back across the table and I took it, putting it back in my pocket. He looked like he was just about to say something, but then his attention shifted to the window beside us. Suddenly his features hardened again. "Alison, you need to go. Get the waitress. Tell the cook and anyone else who's back there to find the biggest piece of steel and get under it," he said, looking over my shoulder.

My eye brows knitted together a little. "Wait, what's going on?"

"The Buick—it rolled around the block three times before pulling into the parking lot," he explained, looking back out the window. "You need to go. _Now_ , Alison." I wanted to protest, say I could help. But the look on his face told me not to try this time. I quickly slid out of the booth-like seat to stand. My feet took me behind the counter before I could even think about it and I grabbed the waitress and started leading her to the back.

"What's going on?" she asked, panicked.

I sighed. "There are some bad people outside, alright? You need to hide." She and the cook hid in the kitchen under the metal counters. I went through the kitchen and slipped into the narrow hall by the bathrooms that opened toward the front. My feet instantly froze and backtracked a couple steps when two men in black came in the front door. Great. At least there are only two this time. I had no doubt that Frank could take these idiots.

But it didn't stop me from worrying. And it didn't stop me from inching up to the corner of the hall, either. I slid my gun from my belt and pressed my back against the wall, then dropped the clip enough to check for ammo. It was full. I carefully slid it back in and locked it into to place—without making too much noise. This might actually be fun. It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel. I jolted at the sound of the first shots.

Game time. I racked a bullet into the chamber and peered around the corner of the hall. Frank had one guy's arm pinned against the counter, and they struggled for his gun. I turned enough to get a good view. Then I aimed and fired. My bullet hit the guy's wrist. He cried out and Frank shot two rounds into the guy's stomach before tossing him to the ground. He charged at thing two next.

Thing two grabbed Frank's gun with one hand, while Frank tried to wrestle away his gun in the other. They were deadlocked a second, sending a bullet into the closest table beside them. Thing two rammed his head into Frank's, causing Frank to recoil, letting him slip away. I sighed in frustration, fired twice around the corner, and dove across the aisle to the other side of the diner. The bullets both hit thing two.

One hit his thigh and the other his shoulder. Frank grabbed the man's gun as thing two writhed in pain and aimed it upward as it fired. Thing two pushed away, sliding on his back onto a booth seat. He cocked his shotgun and Frank dove over the counter just before it fired. The bullet exploded a small stack of plates and cups on the counter, shattering them into a fine dust that wafted up into the air like baby powder.

Thing two moved behind the counter as fast as he could with the hole in his leg, arriving just as Frank was standing up. Here we go. Thing two instantly sent his fist right into Frank's face. I instinctively cringed. They exchanged missed punches, ducking and swinging, as the two moved backward toward the front of the diner. Frank saw his opportunity and managed to get the upper hand on thing two, slamming his head into the counter.

Then he slammed his face into the hard surface once more before sending his fist into thing two's jaw repeatedly. I lost count after five. But somehow thing two slipped back just in time to miss another swing, backing into a station full of cutlery. He rummaged a quick second before whipping out a butcher knife. Okay, this has gone on long enough. I slipped out from behind the small section of wall I hid behind and dashed across the aisle.

I placed both hands on the countertop and pushed down, swinging from the waist down over the top of the counter. My feet went straight into the side of thing two. He slammed into the wall and counter to his right, causing other knives and tools to clatter to the ground. I landed on the other side of the counter as thing two whirled to face me, swinging his knife. Instinctively, my whole body lurched back a step.

My jacket just barely missed getting sliced. He swung once, twice—missing both times—and then I slammed the butt of my gun into his left temple, extremely close to his eye socket. There was an odd, almost wet crunch sound and he screamed, a hand flying to his eye. I took the opportunity to grab his head and pull it down as I hiked my knee up. His face collided with my knee in a hard thrust.

Then my fingers gripped his jacket and shoved him to the right, into the wall. His head bounced off and he was flung back. His back hit the edge of the counter and his knees buckled, toppling him to the floor. My chest heaved as I looked up. Frank didn't look too happy with me. But he wasn't looking at me for more than a second before he stepped out from behind the counter, eyes on the floor. He stopped moving and a muffled cry sounded.

Thing one. He's still alive? I quickly went to the break between the counters, stepping around Frank an inch to see. Sure enough, thing one was reaching for his gun. But he couldn't because Frank's foot was pressed on his wrist. Frank reached down and grabbed the gun off the floor. "Frank…it's done," I puffed, the adrenaline wearing off. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not letting this trash get away." He slammed his foot into thing one's side, causing him to groan and roll onto his back. Frank then turned the man's head with his foot, forcing it to stay put, and he aimed his gun at the thing two—who was slumped against the wall on the floor where I'd left him. "Frank, don't-"

The gunshot rang out before I barely even spoke two words. My whole body startled slightly and my feet instinctively moved back a step. Frank removed his foot from thing one's face, but only for a second before he pulled the trigger again. This time the bullet went into thing _one's_ face. Blood sprayed and I quickly tilted my head back, looking up at the ceiling. I closed my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, then I looked to Frank.

He was breathing raggedly with blood dripping from his lips. As if he needed any more bruises than he already had. I swallowed and stepped over to him, sliding a hand onto his shoulder. "Frank? Hey-" he instantly turned his head enough to see me, as if coming from a deep thought. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

He shook his head and I breathed a small exhale of relief, nodding. Nothing could really cause the nausea bubbling up in my stomach to subside but at least it was something. It took every ounce of will left in me not to look down. Because I knew, if I did, all I'd eaten for the past _week_ would be on the floor. "Nice work back there," he suddenly said, his voice nothing but gravel. "You do that just to show off?"

I huffed a chuckle and shook my head, exhaling. "We better get out of here before the waitress calls the police. You're sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Why?" He sounded like he had no idea why I would be asking that. I absentmindedly brushed my fingers over every inch of his face to check for cuts I couldn't see in this awful lighting. "You look like you just got hit by a truck," I replied. My eyes shifted up to his. He still wasn't getting it. "In the _face_." I didn't feel anything so I looked around at the counter. My eyes stopped on a silver napkin holder not too far down the counter from us.

I sidestepped and leaned over, reaching for it. My fingertips just barely brought it my way enough to grab. I brought the container back over and yanked a small wad of paper napkins from the opening, then sat it on the corner of the counter. I turned to Frank sliding my left hand up to rest at the base of his skull. Then I brought the napkins up to carefully dab up the blood slowly dripping from his mouth. He didn't say anything, didn't try to stop me.

Just stood there and let me do whatever I wanted. His eyes were unmoving, watching me closely. It was hard not to squirm under his intense gaze. But I stayed put and finished mopping up the blood. Maybe it was the doctor inside me that helped me finish. Either way, I twisted and dropped the blood-soaked wad of napkins on the counter, then turned back to him. "You don't have to do this," he shook his head a little.

I raised an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"I can finish this on my own. You can get out now—while you're still in one piece, yeah? Just go home and I'll find you when it's over," he finished, with a worn demeanor. I understood exactly then where he was coming from. Even if I wanted to go home, there was no way I could make myself get in that car and leave him here. I sighed, dropping my shoulders, and took the gun from his hand. It was still warm from being used.

I dropped the clip into my hand and eyed the bullets inside. "We'll need ammo if we're gonna finish this thing," I shoved the clip back in and looked up at him. I smiled a little. "Off to restock at Dani's?"


	29. The Docks

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"Depends on who you talk to," I said. She smiled a nod, returning to painting. She'd called off her men, but Daredevil wasn't taking any chances. He locked the two side doors. I just stood there, not too sure where I fit into this. Clearly, some words had been said before I came down. And, Matt seems annoyed about the phone thing. Like I knew he was going to call me.

"Trust me," Gao said, "my men won't disturb us."

"Yeah, I don't take much on faith, these days," Daredevil said, standing next to me. I couldn't help but notice the gap between us. Part of me wished it wasn't there…but the other reminded me why it was. I sighed on the inside, looking at Gao.

"So, tell me. To what do I owe this pleasure?" she looked at us, her brush frozen inches from the paper. I remained quiet, and the silence dragged on. I wasn't going to reply because I'm sure he'd like to reply. But it appears he's doing the same thing. I rolled my eyes, looking to the right. I hear Daredevil take a breath, preparing to speak, when Gao's voice fills my ears. "I've heard enough from you. I want to hear from the lady."

I looked at her, then glanced next to me. We were both shocked. Why me? What does it matter? I cleared my throat, putting on my game face. "We're looking for someone. You're top competitor in the heroin business. Though, you're a problem in this city, tonight we just want the information." I took a step forward. "Tells us everything you know about the Blacksmith."

She smiled and then went back to painting. "You do not hold anything back, do you?"

"Oh, I'm holding plenty back. Like, my fists from hitting you face," I crossed my arms. She calmly put the paint brush down and then turned to face us saying, "What makes you think I can help you?"

"Because the Blacksmith is taking things over in Hell's Kitchen, and New York is next. I'm sure some of your customers will stay to what they know, but once they see what he's selling, they won't. He'll run you out of town, Madam Gao. And from the look on your face, you know it, too."

She stood and poured a cup of tea. "The heroin imported by the Blacksmith is the purest I've seen."

"Me, too. Which is why he's bad for business," I said.

"He's also ruthless. His crew has been systematically eliminating my chemists and street dealers." She looked at me, taking a drink.

"We can end it tonight," Daredevil said. "But we need a place to start." She looked at him.

"My sources tell me, his product come in by ship," she said. I sighed.

"Well," I nodded. "That narrows it down a bit. Thank you." I turned to leave, Daredevil following.

"But," she said and we both stopped at the base of the stairs. "I fear the path you have chosen, isn't going to be an easy one."

"Yeah, it never is." Daredevil continued, headed up the stairs. I followed, my phone buzzing in my pocket. I slipped my phone out and saw that it was Coulson. I sighed, sliding it away as Daredevil opened the hatch. "You're popular, tonight." He climbed out of the semi hole the stair case was in, and then bent down to give me a hand.

"Unfortunately." I took his hand and climbed out. "Thanks." He nodded as I walked away. I clicked on my ear piece, "Hey, what up?"

"My sources tell me you're looking for someone, code name: Blacksmith." I stopped walking, making sure I heard him right.

"Why, do you have something?"

"Information on his whereabouts."

"What about an ID?"

"Negative. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. has it's limits," he said.

"Okay, just a sec." I looked at Daredevil. "I need to go help Alison. I can meet you a-"

"It's fine," he sighed. "Go." I'm sure he's annoyed that he can't hear what's being said on the phone. But now I think he's annoyed I'm leaving. Though, maybe that's directed at Alison. He told me, and then Frank told me, about what happened at the Café. Two completely different stories, same outcome.

I nodded and then left. I walked to the entrance of the building. Once outside of it, I went in the opposite direction of the docks. "Okay. What's the address?"

"All Daisy could find was his transportation for the drugs. It's parked at the docks. Forty first street," Coulson said.

"Thank you, Coulson. That helps a lot. Anything on Ward?"

"Not yet. We're trying."

"I know. Thank the others for me? I have to go."

"Watch your back out there. And, if you need anything-"

"I know, Phil. And I just might." I hung up and then quickly dialed Alison's number.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Frank pushed through the front door of the diner and held it open as I passed through. "Thank you," I nodded, chuckling a little. He rounded me to walk on my right side as we started for the car. He looked at me sideways. "What?" he asked, curiously amused.

I opened my mouth as my pocket vibrated, causing me to glance down. "Uh- well, for one, you kill bad guys for fun-" I dug into my pocket and fished out my phone, slowing to a stop beside the car. "-and yet you somehow never fail to hold the door for me." I checked the ID on the phone. An icon of Dani floated on the screen. The air caught in my lungs. Dani wasn't alone in the photo. I'd forgotten it, but I'd set it as a picture of her and Mary.

It was the best picture I had of Dani at the time and I just never got around to changing it. I didn't catch all of what Frank was saying—I wasn't really paying attention. But I caught what he said after a short pause. "Hey. You okay?"

I forced my eyes to move up, swallowing hard. "Yeah, fine. One second," I inhaled and pressed the green button, sliding the phone up to my ear, "Hey, what's up?" Frank stood just a few feet to my right. His eyes narrowed slightly, an eyebrow raised as he looked at me. I couldn't tell if he was trying to figure out who was calling or why I suddenly felt the urge to cry.

"Hey. I got some news," Dani said, on the other end. She exhaled. "Looks like this _Blacksmith_ is hiding out at the docks on forty-first. You guys anywhere near there?"

I turned to see the street, my eyes scanning for the right sign. After a second, I found it, and sighed, "No, but we can be."

"Good, you can meet me there—I'm already on my way. Oh, and Alison? Bring your gun."

I made a small, humorless chuckle, turning back to the car. "I never leave home without it." _At least, not anymore_. I hung up the phone and slid it away, and then turned to Frank. "That was Dani. The Blacksmith is at the docks," I explained, pulling open my door. "We're supposed to meet her there." He nodded, but he didn't move for a second. I waited a second, eyeing him suspiciously. He looked out at the street, his eyes shifting around me.

Then I got it. You could always tell when he was trying to keep his mouth shut, but desperately wanted to say something. It was that twitching finger, deep in thought, just itching to do something demeanor that gave it away. I dropped my shoulders, shutting the car door. "Just say it—what are you thinking?" I asked, wrapping my arms around myself.

His eyes shifted to me. He was quiet a minute before replying. "Mary meant a lot to you, didn't she?"

I nodded, a little numbed. "Yeah…she was like a sister to me," I then looked at him questioningly, shaking my head a little. "But, how did you-"

"When you gave me your cell phone, I saw the picture in your contacts," he answered. Right. He would have had to see the contact picture in order to dial from my address book. I paused. "We wouldn't be together without her," I thought aloud, on an exhale.

Frank's eyes softened. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."

"Frank, you were in the hospital," I waved it away. Then I blew out a puff of irritated air at my next thought. "The real person who should be sorry is going to get his butt kicked the next time I see him."

"Ward?" he asked, rhetorically.

I gave a shake of my head, " _Daredevil_." I turned and opened my door, then slid in before pulling it shut. It shut a little harder than I wanted but I felt abnormally angry at the moment. I'd wanted to say more to Matt outside the police station. But I just didn't want to spend any more time near him. Frank slid in behind the wheel and started the car, pulling out of the small parking lot. The docks weren't that far, but they sure felt like they were.

The ride was mostly silent. The only communication was our locked fingers, resting between the seats. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Mostly because I knew that, if I did, I would sound annoyed. And he would take it as me being annoyed with him, when I was really just angry with Matt. So I thought it best just to be quiet. Finally, we pulled up along the side of a warehouse—marking the start of the docks—and Frank cut the engine.

He looked to me a second before holding up the car keys. "Why don't _you_ take these?"

"Why?" I asked, slowly, curious. I took the keys, but I still wanted to know. He sighed, looking straight forward. His eyes scanned the area a moment before settling on the center of the steering wheel. "You might need 'em if things get ugly," he finally said, semi-quietly. "Don't stick around if they do, alright?"

I tilted my head, pausing a little. "Frank-"

"Alison," he stopped me cold, his head turning to look at me. He looked focused. But there was a troubling edge to it that was hard to pin down. It almost seemed like sadness. My eyes softened at that. "Just do it, okay? Do this one thing for me." His eyes were about to burn a hole right through mine. I swallowed hard and nodded as much as I could. He nodded once in return and shifted his eyes down, pushing open his door.

If I wasn't unsettled before that I certainly was now. I tried to push it out of my mind, getting out of the car. I shut the door behind me just as Dani walked around the corner of the warehouse behind the car. I started toward the back and she stopped a few feet from the car. "Well, you two look like a lively crew," Dani commented, sarcastically.

I gave her a look and she sighed, crossing her arms. "Are you guys ready to put a bullet in this guy? Because I am," she finished. Only then did I notice a slight tint of stress to everything she said. I slid my hands in my jacket pockets and Frank gave a small nod. "Lead the way," he said.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We walked up to the dock, Frank and Alison to my left. I had a crossbow (the same one I shot Frank with), he had a rifle, and Alison had a shotgun. We were thirty feet away when I heard gunfire. Men started appearing in front of us as the shot gun filled my ears. I went right, taking cover behind a crate. I looked for the others but they weren't there. Probably taking cover, too.

I turned, popping up from behind the crate, gunfire filling the air. I shot a guy twenty feet away. He collapsed as two more hit the deck. I stepped out from behind the crate, walking swiftly forward. Firm grip on the handle, finger on the trigger, knees slightly bent, eyes not staying in one spot too long. A guy popped up to my left and I shot him.

I quickly did a once over of the scene. Frank walked past me, a gun in one hand and a gas can in the other. That was my idea, but I have no idea who let him have it. Probably not the smartest thing. Even though both he and Alison have vests on, it's still good to be careful. Something, I'm afraid, Frank's not good at. I rolled my eyes, Alison stepping up next to me. She paused and looked at me. I looked her in the eyes and nodded.

She nodded back, lowering her shot gun. She turned and lightly ran to catch up with Frank. I followed, pulling up the rear. I counted six men total. Only one appeared to still be alive. I walked down the middle of them and passed that one. I kept my eyes forward, pointing my cross bow at him and pulling the trigger.

When I caught up with them on the boat, Frank was prying open a wooden crate with a crow bar. The lid went flying as I walked up beside him and Alison. The crate was full of packages of drugs. I picked one up, felt it's weight. I let out a low whistle. Frank grunted, turning and walking away. I tossed the package back in the crate as Frank walked over with the gas can. He started pouring it's contents onto the drug packages. Then he started walking around, emptying the whole can onto the boat.

I stood, staring at him. He looked crazy, off his rocker. He had that dangerous look to him. I was seeing flash backs to the night on the roof in the back of my mind. The night he held a gun to my head and made Matt choose. I let out a long breath, sliding away the cross bow. I glanced at Alison. She looked a little unnerved, but still ready to end this. It reminded me that she hasn't seen his crazy side. Like, the real one. The one where he loses control to his emotions. Where it doesn't matter who's watching or who's on the receiving end of his bullet.

I casually followed him, keeping an eye out. He dumped the last of the gas and then tossed the can. A bullet pinged off the barrel behind Frank, a foot from his head. I looked for where it came from, slightly ducking. An older man was standing several yards away, peeking out from the inside of the ship. I heard a bullet fire from my left and I saw Alison shot at the guy.

"OH! HEY!" I waved my arms, turning to Frank. "You're gonna light this thing up!"

"He started it," he half growled as he put his hand on me and shoved. I stumbled back into a stack of creates.

"Hey! No touchy!" I pushed off the crates and then ran after him. "You hear me, Picasso?" He disappeared below deck, following the guy. I grunted, looking at Alison. "Cover me." She nodded and then moved to the door. I put my hand on the knob and ripped the door open, nearly off it's hinges. It slammed into the wall behind it. I stepped in as the door moved to close. It sealed shut as Frank whipped around, his gun pointed at me. I held up a finger, wide eyed. "Don't. You. DARE."

He turned around, facing the end of the hall where two doors stood. I looked around the room, pulling out my handgun. You could fit six of these into Frank's gun. A table sat to my right, more drug bags and guns. I tightened the grip on my gun, slowly walking forward. Frank kicked in the door on the left. I'm assuming it was empty since he didn't pull the trigger.

The he moved to the next on. He turned around, halfway in the doorway of the other room. He reached out for the knob of the closed door. I quickly moved for cover. I crouched next to the door. I looked up at him. He looked at me and paused. I nodded. He pushed on the handle. The door swung open and bullets came out. I turned to the left, covering my head.

The guy fired until his clip ran out, which didn't take long. "Looks like you're all out," Frank called. "That's all you got, huh?" Yeah, good question. Frank slowly walked out from the other room, gun at the ready. I slowly stood, gun pointed at the room.

"The cash," the guy said, "the drugs, just take it! Just take it all!"

"That's what you think is gonna happen, huh?" Frank walked into the room slowly. The guy became more panicked with each step Frank took. I know the feeling. I stood completely, entering the room behind him. I stopped at the doorway, my gun trained on him. This is the Blacksmith?

"No, please!"

"You think you're gonna talk your way out of this?" Frank pulled the trigger, shooting him in the right shoulder vicinity. He fell back onto the bed behind him and then slumped onto the floor. Frank tossed the rifle and then pulled out his hand gun. "I've been looking for you." He kicked the guy's foot. He moaned and screamed, still panicked. This isn't right. Something's off about this.

This guy is supposed to be some powerful drug lord, whose lack of presence caused those groups to go nuts, killing the Castle family. He's been taking out Gao's men, hunting them. He killed the DA and framed Castle. He killed the ME from the trail and redecorated Alison's.

"You're The Blacksmith. Say it."

"God, I don't want to die," he screamed. Frank shot him in the leg, upper thigh. He screamed and was now reeling in pain. Frank got down, putting a hand on his shoulder and his gun in his face. "Say it," he said. "I want you to tell me. Say 'I'm The Blacksmith'."

"Frank," I said, lowering my gun.

"Say it. Say 'I killed your wife'. Say it. Say 'I killed your children'." He pressed the gun into his cheek. "You hear me?"

"Frank."

"I…I'm The Blacksmith," the guy said.

"No," I said. "No, Frank, he's not the guy. It's not him."

He looked over his shoulder at me. "Shut up!" I rolled my eyes as he went back to preparing to kill the wrong guy.

"You have the wrong guy!"

"Don't shoot him, Frank!" I turned around and saw Daredevil running in, Alison just behind him. He stopped about ten feet away. "Frank!"

"Oh, for crying out loud! Frank was now angrier with us than the guy. The barrel of his gun was in the guy's mouth. "Get out of here, Red!"

"He's lying, Frank. We're here for the same reasons, alright? I want The Blacksmith just as much as you, but he's not him. I now when someone's telling the truth, Frank. It's not him."

"You're lying!"

"Frank," I took a step forward. "I-"

He came up on one knee, spinning to point his gun at me, keeping one hand on the guy. "Don't you dare!" he growled. I startled at the act, not expecting it. I stepped back, putting my hands up to prove I wouldn't do anything. "Hey!" I heard Daredevil yell. "What are you doing? Don't you point that at her! We're on the same side!"

"You sure about that?" Frank asked, looking past me at Daredevil.

"Frank," I heard Alison's voice. I almost forgot she was here. I heard her footsteps getting closer.

"It's me, I swear!" the guy yelled. Frank took the gun off of me, jamming it deeper into the guy. "Are you lying to me?" he shouted. "Huh? Are you lying to me?"

"Frank," Alison walked into the room, stepping kind of off to the left. "He's not the guy. It's not him." He looked up at her, still just as fierce. "We can go home, keep looking, but if you kill him we have nothing."

"I don't have a home," he said. A look of hurt flashed across her face. He turned back to the guy. "Either way," he stood, the gun still pointed at the guy, "you die." Something came flying from the other room and knocked the gun out of Frank's hand. It bounced off the wall and landed on the bed. A hammer landed on the bed next to the gun. Smart, Matt.

Frank looked down the hall at Daredevil with pure rage. He looked back down at the guy just before kicking him in the face. Then he turned to Daredevil. "You just couldn't let it be could you?" he started for him. Alison and I were saying his name, trying to get his attention, maybe talk him down. She reached out and grabbed his hand. He yanked his hand back at her touch, flinging his other arm at me. His hand caught me across the face and I slammed back into a desk. "You just couldn't let it be."

I spit out a wade of blood, quickly getting to my feet. I looked at Alison, "You have to stop him." She looked at me like I was an idiot. And frankly, I agree. I should've come alone. Checked it out, made sure it was the right guy. I heard Daredevil say something just before Frank slammed into him, forcing him through the door leading to the ship's deck.

"What the-"

"This isn't good." Alison ran down the hall toward the boys, and I followed.

"You're telling me." We walked out onto the deck to the sound of fists meeting flesh. They were in an all out brawl. Daredevil was on his back, Frank on top punching. I walked around to the other side of Frank. I reached down and grabbed two fists full of the back of Frank's jacket. Alison quickly did the same. We pulled with all we had, yanking Frank off of Daredevil and then slamming him in the closed door.

He lunged for me as Alison squeezed in-between us, two hands on his chest pushing him back. I ran to Daredevil. I grabbed him by his underarms and pulled him across the deck, as far as I could. "When are you gonna learn?" Frank yelled, pushing against Alison. Daredevil got to his feet, instantly turn toward Frank. I stepped in front of him. I don't care if they're ten feet or ten miles apart, this fight is NOT happening. Again.

"We want the same thing," he said, trying to walk around me.

"No, okay?" I said, giving him a shove. He took a couple steps back, looking at me. "Just shut up! You're making this worse."

"Oh, _I'm_ making it worse?" he asked rhetorically, as I heard Alison screaming at Frank in the back ground. "You're the one who brought him here."

"Yeah, and I tried to fix it-"

"He pulled a gun on you!"

I heard something hitting metal and we both stopped talking. I whipped around to look at Alison and Frank. They were standing two feet apart, him giving her the death stare. I'm sure she was doing the same thing. But from the looks of it, she probably shoved him into the ship. I sighed, glad he didn't hurt her. Then…then we'd have problems.

Daredevil's shoulder bumped mine as he pushed past. "Hey!" I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back. I yanked hard and then let go. He stumbled back into some crates and then landed on the ground. "I don't want to do this," I said, standing over him. He stood and then got close. He paused and then whispered, "Then don't."

Fine, Matt. You asked for it. I grabbed his left shoulder, pulling him in while driving my knee into his stomach twice. Then I quickly spun, planting my foot into his chest. He landed on his back, moaning. I don't think he thought I was serious…but he does now. I heard a noise behind me and looked. Alison and Frank were starting to get physical, too. Mainly on her part. He's just on defense.

I turned back and Daredevil was up. He walked up to me and I swung. He caught my fist, and I knew what his next move was. As he began to bend my arm back, I jammed my left fist into his side repeatedly. I got my other hand free and then pushed him away from me, yelling in frustration. "You're not even going to fight back."

"No. It's not you I want to fight."

"Then don't," I mocked. "But you have to fight me to get to him." I walked up to him, punching him. I moved straight into kneeing him in the side before throwing another punch. I dodged his attempt to catch this one and it continued into his face. I took a step back. He spit out a wade of blood and then faced me. In the blink of an eye I was on the ground, on my stomach.

I spit, tasting blood in my mouth. Now we're talking. Pushed up, as a boot pushed me down. "Stay down," Daredevil said. I slightly chuckled.

I looked back at him as best I could. "Why don't you make me?" I rolled onto my back, my legs looping around his. He slammed onto his back. He didn't miss a beat, flipping to his feet. I swung with my right fist and he caught it. I swung with my left and he caught that, too.

He quickly turned us around and slammed me into a stack of crates, my hands pinned above my head. "Was that even Alison you were talking to on the phone?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Does the shoe hurt on the other foot?" I mock pouted. Then I turned serious. "It doesn't feel good does it? Being lied to by your partner. Watching as they sneak away to go do who knows what with whoever." I looked into the red eyes in his mask. "Huh? That moment when you realize your partner's not your partner. That you're really fighting alone."

"So that's what this is about," he scoffed. "Really? Revenge?"

"NO!" I shouted, then lowered my voice. "I'm past revenge. I'm at the point where I don't care. I don't care who lives or dies." I got my face as close to his as I could and whispered, "Last year, when Alison was taken by the Russians…you heard me from miles away. Calling for you." He clenched his jaw. "And, yet…here we are, I'm right in front of you, like always-" I shrugged as best I could, "-and…you couldn't even hear my heart break."

His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out. A blur flew past me and Daredevil was gone. I look down and he and Frank are on the ground hitting each other. I looked over at Alison, pointing at the boys. She was mad, marching this way with a purpose. "He's too strong."

"And stupid," I added. She glared at me. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "Switch."

"That…is a good idea." I pulled out my crossbow and she pulled out her gun. We let them get a few punches in. Daredevil pushed Frank and he slammed into the open box of drugs about ten feet away from him. We saw our chance and took it. Alison and I jumped in. Frank pushed off the box and instantly went into a charge. I smacked him across the face with the crossbow, stopping him. "Enough!" I said, hearing Alison's gun cock.

"What are you doing, Alison?" Daredevil said.

"Joining the fight, for once. Standing up for what I believe in," she replied. "Why? Because I am _awesome_!"

"You think that this is okay?"

"Let it go, Red," Frank said, taking a step. I reached behind me and pulled out my gun. A cross bow in one hand and gun in the other.

I waved them both. "Which one do you think will reach you first?"

"I think your system is wrong!" Alison said. "It's messed up!"

"So this is the right way?"

"Oh, shut up!" I called back.

"Now you sound just like him," Daredevil said.

Frank started to walk forward. I backed up into Alison, our backs flat against each other. "I've already shot you once, Castle," I said and he stopped. "Don't you dare think I won't do it again."

"Then do it," he said.

"Wait, no!" Alison said. "Don't shoot him," she said over her shoulder. "No one is shooting anyone."

"That's why there's still a gun in my face," Daredevil said.

"There's a gun in your face because no one trusts you anymore. I don't need you to save me. And I never did." She paused. I felt her leave my back, stepping forward. "You've brought more pain to us than Fisk ever did. And, if I ever did need saving…it'd be from _you_." Go Alison. My head was turned to the side, listening to their conversation. I can't believe the pair she's grown.

"Alright, now it's my turn." I look at Frank just in time to catch his fist across my face. He grabbed my suit, pulled me in and head butted me. My head slightly danced around as he picked me up and threw me. I skidded across the tops of some crates and then slammed onto the deck on the other side. I rolled onto my side and coughed. Some of the wind was knocked out of me on that one. I ignored to lightheadedness and then used the crate to get me to my feet.

I had dropped my crossbow, but I still had my gun. He had just knocked Daredevil to the ground, when I whistled. "Hey, you sack of bricks," I called, sounding a little groggy. He turned and looked at me. "Eat lead." I raised the gun and fired. The bullet hit him in the center of his vest. I spit and then walked around the crate. Frank was on his knees, Alison at his side.

"You happy now?" I asked. I stopped a few feet from him. He looked up at me. Alison didn't look too happy either. "All of this because you couldn't kill the wrong guy? Give me a break," I scoffed.

"You don't get it," he said.

"Oh. Really? Tell me that one more time and I'll put a bullet in your head, save us all the trouble later," I said, waving the gun for affect.

"Stop it," Alison said.

"What?" I asked. "This isn't the end. We'll find him- _I'll_ find him."

"Because you did such a great job this time," Frank said.

"Hey, I'm keeping my word, my _promise_. And you always trying to shoot me…isn't helping."

"Maybe…" Daredevil walked up to us. "Maybe just this once…just this once, your way's what it's going to take." He was looking between Frank and me.

"No!" I said.

"'Just this once'?" Frank repeated, puzzled. I was dumbfounded. I think I need to get my hearing checked after tonight. Matt just said he wants to help us KILL people. "No, no, Red, that's not how it works. You cross over to my side…you don't get to comeback from that. Just ask Angel-she…she's going through it right now. You don't ever come back from that."

Daredevil turned to the side, listening. Frank and Alison stood. "I count ten, armed. There's a lot of gun power below deck. If these guys start shooting-"

"It'll blow us straight to Hell," Frank said.

"We've got to get off this ship." He walked to the edge.

"Darn right you do." Frank ran up behind Daredevil and pushed him over the edge. Then he walked up to Alison. He caught her while she was still in shock from seeing him push over Daredevil. But she squirmed as he picked her up. He promptly walked over to the edge and tossed her. Then he turned around and looked at me.

"No," I said. He walked toward me as I started backing up. "No, no, no, no." I back into something and couldn't go anymore. He walked up to me and grabbed my arm. "No, Frank!" I whisper yelled. He ignored me, moving to pick me up. "One batch, two batch-" He froze and looked at me, eyes wild yet tame. "-I'm with you till the end."

"It's been a long time, Frank!" a male voice yelled.

"Penny and dime," Frank said, grabbing my hand.

"Kill 'em!"


	30. I'm a Survivor

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My head broke the surface of the ice cold water and I gasped in a breath, coughing up a bit of water. Matt came up a little ways to my right a second later. "Get to the shore," he said, sounding a little hoarse. I nodded and started around the front of the boat. I was practically already on my way when he said it. My arms moved quickly to carry me to the cement steps along the side of the dock. They were big and widely spaced.

But I stood as soon as it was shallow enough on the bottom step and hiked myself up. "Alison," Matt's voice came from not too far behind me. "Wait." I ignored him and continued climbing until I was up to the top, behind a row of some colored barrels. One look at the boat and my heart sank. I shuffled around the barrels to get a better look at it. The whole deck was engulfed in vibrant flames. My chest was so tight it was beginning to actually hurt.

I sucked in a breath. I didn't know that I hadn't been breathing. But it came out more like a hiccupping gasp as tears made short work of my defenses. I didn't even try to hold them back this time. What was the point? Dani and Frank were still on the boat when it exploded. And now they were both dead. The only two people I had left that I still cared about…dead. Mary's dead, Chase is MIA, and now this?

My eyes scanned the carnage but I knew. There was no finding either of them. "Frank…" my shoulders dropped, hot tears burning my cheeks. "Why?" The question came out a little more hopeless sounding than I'd wanted. But, what can you do? I heard Matt's sopping footsteps as he came to stand to my left. "Alison…" Matt sounded just as hollow as I felt.

But the sound of his voice caused pure rage to slip into my veins. I inhaled. "This is all your fault," I clenched my jaw.

"My… _my_ fault?" he asked, unbelieving. "How is any of this my fault?"

I whirled to face him. "If you hadn't of shown up to begin with, this would've gone a whole lot differently-"

"Yeah, it would've, and it would've been a whole lot worse," he shot back, getting angry as well.

"Maybe if you weren't there, I could've talked him down! But because you had to prance in on your holier-than-thou white horse to try and convert us all, the whole stinking boat exploded!" I shouted, through the tears. He recoiled an inch, caught off guard. But then he scoffed a humorless chuckle. "You really think he was going to listen to you?" he questioned, rhetorically.

"Yes, because he _listens_ to me, Matt! He's listened to _me_ and only me since day one," my voice got quieter with every passing word. Matt stared at me. I couldn't tell what his face was doing behind that stupid mask of his. But my insides felt like they'd been scooped out with a metal spoon so I didn't really care. "He listened…and he cared. You think he's some monster because he kills people—but you don't know what it's like."

"What what is like, Alison?" Matt asked, adjusting his stance.

The anger was starting to fill my chest again. My voice was venomous, "To have a child. It's your whole world right there in your arms and then it just disappears. And there's not a darn thing you can do about it and- your system? It doesn't fix anything! Your system is what took his family away; your system is what took my _son_!"

"What am I supposed to do about it? Where there's good, there's corruption—that's why I do this, princess! To fix it!" he spat back, triumphantly, like he'd won a battle that wasn't even over yet. I stepped forward and shoved my hands into his chest. It wasn't a thought or premeditated. My hands just itched to do something, so I did. He stumbled back and off the edge of the dock, hitting the water down below.

He was under for only a second before shooting back up to pop his head above the surface. I turned back toward the boat, fuming. He was such a jerk. The man I love is dead, the woman he claimed to love is dead—and he acts like that? More tears burned out of my eyes as I raked my hand back through my wet hair. Every inch of me was soaked and I was starting to shake a little from the cold night wind. I heard splashing a dripping.

Then Matt crawled over the edge, heaving. He pulled himself up to stand and turned toward me. I glanced over at him. "Feel better now?" he asked, subtly mocking. He whiped water from his face and stood upright a bit more, sniffling once. I just stared for a moment. _Really, Matt? Really?_ "You think you're so much better just by being you," I slowly shook my head, sniffling hard. "You don't even see past your own nose. Hero? What a joke."

"What do you want me to say, Alison?" he questioned, his shoulders dropping in an exhausted stance. I turned toward him, wrapping my arms around myself. The tears still poured from my eyes with a mind of their own but I did my best to speak around them with my voice shaking. "How about an _I'm sorry_? I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I didn't care. I'm sorry I'm such a fake," I threw out the suggestions.

"I know you cared about him-"

"Do you? Do you really, Matt?" I questioned, my tone of voice so much more done than I was. Everything in me just wanted to curl up in a ball and forget this ever happened. I stood up a bit more as I noticed his face had sobered a bit, his eyes not leaving my general direction. "Matt, I…you think it was just some fling, don't you? That it was me rebelling or something?"

It only just really hit me why he was acting like this about my relationship with Frank. Matt probably didn't even care if I was safe or not anymore. Just that I was rebelling against him like some stupid teenager. He was quiet, looking down a second. So I continued, "We didn't sleep together—I mean, we hardly even kissed this whole time. But you still think this is about you, right? I'm just doing this to get at _you_."

He shrugged lightly, still sobered looking. "I didn't know what to think, Alison. I don't even know who you are anymore."

"I've been through _Hell_. My father died when I was fifteen after flying jets over Afghanistan. Then my mother, two years later, gets thrown in high security prison lockup for crimes against the country. I was all on my own since I was a kid. Then I meet Wesley and I think everything's going to be okay. _He tried to kill me_. Ten years later and I finally fall in love again—with _your_ best friend—and he cheats on me."

His face looked to fall just slightly at that. I finished with, "You wanna know what I am? I'm a _survivor_! Frank didn't care that I already had a kid, he didn't care that I killed my ex, and he didn't try to brainwash me. I chose this life, Matt, because I _wanted_ it. Don't act like this is anything new. This is who I've been the whole time. Frank just gave me a reason to actually use it."

Silence fell in between us. All I could hear was my heart pounding in my ears, and the crackling and sizzling of the flames at my back. Suddenly Matt tilted his head up toward me, his jaw set. "You killed your ex?" His voice was quiet, serious. Great. _Way to let that slip, Aly. Good job_. I knew he'd be able to sense the answer to that question so I didn't bother replying.

"Alison…" he stood up all the way, looking at me seriously. There was something to his voice. Something concerned. "You killed Wesley, didn't you? You never believed he was on our side," he looked like he'd just realized something unbelievable with an airy huff of a chuckle. "He hurt you, so you killed him."

I glared, almost agape. "You think I purposely set out to kill him?"

"Well, you said it yourself. You've been this way the whole time. There's no denying that you've killed people for his cause," he pointed toward the boat at the word _his_.

I let my arms fall to my sides. "Wesley kidnapped me and took me to a warehouse in the middle of the night, _Matt_. I woke up in some strange place thinking he was going to kill me!" I spat, venomously. I took a couple steps toward him. "I was scared out of my mind, I couldn't stop shaking—he wouldn't listen to me. I shot him because I thought he was going to kill me. I found out that was wrong after, when he was dying in my arms."

I fought a small sob at the last bit, stopping a foot from him. He stared at me. Once again I couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Go on, listen to my heart. Tell me if I'm lying," I suggested, swallowing hard. He sighed heavily, looking down.

"You're not lying," he concluded.

I nodded, like it was obvious. "Yeah, and you're still a _jerk_." He opened his mouth to speak when sirens filled my ears. He instantly threw an arm around me and pulled me down, behind the barrels. We dropped to the ground and I pulled my arm out of his grasp with a hard yank. I got up on my knees and peered through the space between the barrels separating Matt and I. One car and two cruisers pulled up a couple yards from the boat.

The headlights shined right at us and I quickly ducked behind my barrel. " _Mahoney_ ," I groaned under my breath, annoyed. Sure enough, a moment after the car doors opened and shut, I heard a familiar female voice say, "Brett?"

"Be careful, Karen," Mahoney warned. I tuned everything out after that. Matt instantly looked at me. He waited to say anything until I'd turned my head to see him. "Did you tell her you were coming here?" he asked, his voice an urgent whisper. I gave a shake of my head.

"She must have figured out the phony Blacksmith was here from the files I gave police," I reasoned, whispering. "We need to get out of here. _Now_." I looked around the corner off the barrel. Brett was on his radio calling in reinforcements while Karen was off in la-la land not even paying attention. I saw my opening and hauled butt across the open dock. I made it to a line of shipping crates and didn't stop. I just ran.

I ran all the way to the backside of the warehouse. My car was still there, untouched. I instantly felt for my keys, slowing to a walk, out of breath. Part of me didn't care if Matt was following or not. I could just get my keys, start the car, and go home without him. So what if he makes it past police? Maybe getting caught is what he needs? Just as I thought that, Matt came jogging around the side of the warehouse.

I stopped at the driver's side door of my car with a sigh. _Speak of the devil_. Thankfully my keys were still in my pocket. The water fried the remote unlock but there was still a key hole in the door. As I shoved my key in, he said, "You just left me back there?" He threw his arms in the air, like we had reached some sort of camaraderie without previous conversation and I just betrayed it by running.

"I'm not your friend, Matt. I'm not your partner," I shook my head and pulled open my door. "Get in before I change my mind."

"I thought we weren't friends," he pointed out, like a smart aleck.

I gave him a warning look and slid in behind the wheel. Matt slid into the passenger seat as I started the engine. As soon as his door was shut, I was driving. I glanced over at the control console and switched on the heater. My hands were shaking from being soaking wet so I gripped the steering wheel to hold them still. We were only driving for about a minute before Matt piped up, "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home," I replied, stoic.

He was quiet again for a long pause. And for a second I thought he would stay that way. But then he opened his mouth again and ruined everything. "I'm sorry," he suddenly said, his voice quiet. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel and I gave a firm shake of my head, "Don't talk to me." He didn't say a single word after that. Finally, we pulled up along the sidewalk at Matt's building and I cut the engine.

Without looking at him as much as possible, I slid out of the car and shut my door behind me. I'd dried off quite a bit from the hot air in the car. But my clothes were still a bit soaked. Matt got out of the car a minute after I did, and he joined me on the sidewalk. "You can come inside," he offered. "I have dry clothes, and…I'm pretty sure there's enough beer for the both of us."

It seemed like a humorous choice of words to put in a sentence, but he was too serious about it. Every hate filled nerve ending in my body wanted to slap him. But instead, I nodded, and followed him to his apartment. Dry clothes and a beer sounded too much like what I needed right then to say no. That and what did I have to go home to? Exactly, nothing. He pushed through the door and into the apartment, and I stepped inside after him.

I shut the door as he continued on toward the bedroom. I paused, eyeing him a moment with narrowed eyes. Nothing about him really screamed _grief_. But it was the little hesitation with every step he took, the slight drop to his shoulders, and the small bow of his head. He was in pain. I'd recognize the signs anywhere. He disappeared into the bedroom and I moved into the living room.

A second later, Matt stepped into the doorway of the bedroom. "Alison." I turned, raising an eyebrow, just in time to catch a flying t-shirt before it hit me straight I the face. As it hit my hands, he turned and went back into the bedroom, sliding the door closed. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Jerk. I unstrapped my vest and pulled it off along with my jacket, then dropped both on one of the chairs. I was soaked all the way through to my bra.

But there was no way I was going to ask if Matt had one on hand. Because, odds were, he did not. So I left on the bra and pulled on the t-shirt Matt gave me. It was at least three sizes too big. I tucked the ends into my belt just as Matt reopened the bedroom door. In normal clothes, he looked a lot more sorrowful. I instinctively turned and headed straight for the fridge. "I hope you don't think this means everything is okay between us," I said, pulling out two beer bottles.

I nudged the door closed with my foot and headed back into the living room. Matt sighed heavily, lowering himself down to sit on the couch. "We both lost someone tonight…" he shook his head a little, looking down. I dropped onto the cushion to the left of his. "Can we rip each other apart tomorrow? Please, Alison?"

I didn't reply, just shoved a bottle in his direction. His face looked tired, worn, and completely deflated. But he took the bottle from my hands and I wasted no time opening my own. I sunk back into the cushion behind me and took a long pull from the bottle, squeezing my eyes tightly shut as the alcohol seared down my throat. I only stopped drinking when I needed to breathe too much. When I did, I kept my eyes closed.

I couldn't bring myself to open them. So many thoughts went through my head. So many questions I wanted to ask Frank. Why'd you have to leave me? Why'd you have to go? I was counting on us being able to fix it. On being able to make things right, and get justice for what happened to him. Maybe when it was over we could've been together still? Now I'll never know the answer to that question. The whole apartment was quiet.

The only sound was the sloshing liquid from the occasional drink from a bottle. It lasted for what seemed like at least an hour, but I had no way of knowing exactly how long it really was before he spoke again, breaking the silence. "I know you don't wanna here it but…I really am sorry, Alison," he said, causing me to loll my head that way to glare at him. "I get it now. You loved him. And I loved Dani."

"You had a real piss-poor way of showing it," I commented, turning my head to face the ceiling.

"I know. I…I should've been better to her—to both of you. I should've been there with Mary, I should've been there in court…there's a lot I should've done, but…I didn't." He shook his head a little, lost in thought. Suddenly he turned more toward me. "I just- I don't get it. Why _didn't_ I, Alison? Why didn't I stand with her? How…how did I let her slip away?"

"Because you—obviously—still have feelings for Elektra," I answered, stoic. I was too done with him to sound like anything else. "And you love her more than Dani. We wouldn't be here right now if you didn't."

"When did you know you were in love with Frank?" The question wasn't judging or angered. He sounded genuinely curious. My eyebrow instinctively cocked up and I shifted my eyes to see him. "You didn't seriously just ask me that," I rolled my eyes.

"I'm serious. When did you know?" he pressed, urgent.

I shook my head. "I don't know, okay? Ugh," I sighed heavily, thinking. It came to me then. When did I actually know that I loved him? Not when I said it, or it felt real, but when I just _knew_. "Probably when the Irish took us. If you could've seen the way he put himself in front of me, like…like he would've taken on the whole world right then if it meant keeping me safe."

Matt's face was lingering off to the side, his eyes slightly glossed over, like he'd literally lost himself in a thought. Probably trying to picture what I was saying—or just trying to get it. I took a deep breath before continuing, trying to swallow down the urge of an ugly crying fit. "And then when he was being tortured," I added, sitting upright. "They were gonna use a power drill on him."

Matt's head suddenly flickered a little more toward me. "Did they?"

"Oh, yeah. They drilled right through his foot. I was chained up so I couldn't really cover my ears, but…before they started…it was like he didn't care what was about to happen to him. He looked straight at me—just me—and said to look away. He knew what was coming and that I wouldn't be able to handle seeing it." I was only rambling now, spewing just to fight the emptiness taking the memory's place.

My eyes were blurring and I blinked hard, only causing water to spill over and crawl down my cheek to my chin. I quickly reached a hand up and wiped it away. "Sounds like he really cared about you," his voice was soft, quiet. Like he actually cared.

"That's what I thought…then he threw me overboard with you." I stood and stepped around the couch, heading into the kitchen. A sudden flush of anger hit me, then left as quickly as it came, leaving a dense emptiness in its place. I put my empty beer bottle on the counter and pressed my palms into either side of the sink to brace myself, to hold myself up. "He was trying to protect you," Matt said, causing me to close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"I didn't _need_ protecting, Matt. I needed _him_. And he-" A sob threatened to swallow me then. I covered my mouth with my hand, so instead a strangled and muffled sound escaped me as a surge of tears burst past my eyelids with little warning. My whole body ached and felt numb at the same time. I sucked in a breath and stood upright, trying to force myself to stop. "He obviously didn't need me."

Matt shook his head with a sigh. "Alison-" He suddenly stopped himself, turning rigid. Even in my slightly less sober, border line depressed episode I could see he was listening intently to _something_. "Matt? What is it?" I asked, wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands. Then I heard it. Tires screeching somewhere outside. A few cars honked and Matt slowly stood, easing himself toward the window.

"Outside." He turned and headed for the door. I grabbed my jacket off the chair and quickly followed behind him. We made it outside just as an older model car swerved across the road and then straight into the bumper of the car parked in front of mine. Sparks flew and the force scooted both cars forward a foot. Matt jolted back, putting an arm around my front to hold me back with him. He only held me a second before hurrying over to the car.

I sighed, shaking my head at myself inwardly, and followed behind him. It became clear as I got closer that two men were sitting in the front seats. Both were slumped down quite a bit. And when I finally arrived right behind Matt, I gasped and clapped a hand over my mouth. Both of the men were dying, dead, or near-dead with blood coming from various gruesome-looking places. "You need help," Matt realized.

He shouted down the street for help and then turned back to the car window. The driver was still kind of alive. He was mumbling something. Finally he wheezed, "She found him." Matt leaned in closer to the window. "What?" he asked.

The man inside choked a little, but turned his head to see us. "She found Stick," he said. "She's gonna kill…" He coughed and choked, sputtering on the blood in his mouth. Matt looked like he knew who the man meant, but had to ask anyway. "Who?"

"…Elektra…" The man sputtered on the blood and his eyes slowly slid closed as he moved further down in the seat, dying. I cringed and stepped back, wrapping my arms around myself. Matt stepped back from the car with a heavy sigh. I turned to him. "I knew you were working with Elektra…" I started shaking my head. "But Stick? Really, Matt?"

"I know you don't approve but I don't care. Remember what you said, about being a survivor?" he turned toward me. I nodded, knowing he could sense it. "Stick was the one that taught me how to survive. I have to go find him before Elektra does—I owe him that much."

I groaned. "Fine, do what you have to do. But I'm not going with you."

"I didn't think you would. Go home, get some rest. I'll call you in the morning." He stepped around me and walked straight back inside the building. I stood there a moment longer. My mind was going through the maybes like it was my job. Maybe I should've gone with him? Maybe I should just go home? Maybe I should just give up?

A few hundred maybes later, and I was pulling up in front of Angel's Café. I cut the engine and climbed out of the car, then headed inside. I had to struggle with the stupid lock. But it didn't take too long. Thankfully, because I had little to no patience to deal with anything at the moment. The lights were off so I left them like that and instead went straight up the stairs. My eyes were tired and I honestly just wanted to curl in my bed and die.

No more child, no more man you love, no more friends—why not? It would be so simple. Then maybe I could finally see my dad again. I flipped on the upstairs lights at the top of the stairs and jolted so hard I thought I actually would have a heart attack. My eyes rounded as my chest heaved. Dani sat on my kitchen counter, stuffing her face with a sandwich.

"Someone shot your fridge," she said, around a mouthful. "Thought I'd help you clean it out." My mouth slowly fell open the more my eyes narrowed. I walked across the damaged, bloodied, and bullet-laden living room, and dropped my keys on the island. "What…are you doing here?" I questioned, my eyebrows shooting up in expectation. Part of me was really, really angry.

She chewed a second, looking amused, then she swallowed and pushed off the countertop. She dropped to the floor and pulled open the fridge. "Eating. Where have _you_ been? I've been waiting here for, like, _two hours_ ," she said, as if she didn't just supposedly die on an exploding boat at the docks. "Don't tell me you and Matt were getting it on in one of those mutually-emotionally-charged love scenes."

I nearly threw up across the kitchen floor. I scoffed, hard. " _No_. Where is Frank? Did he make it out, too?"

"Yeah, he's fine," she pulled a jug of milk out of the fridge and shut the door, turning around to face me. She unscrewed the lid as she said, "I'm not sure he wants me to tell you the answer to the first question, though." She tilted her head back as she started gulping down the milk straight from the jug. My heart sank. Why wouldn't Frank want me to know where he was?

Probably because he doesn't want me involved. But doesn't he know? I told him at that stupid roadside diner but, apparently, it didn't sink in through his thick skull. Dani put the jug down on the island between us with a satisfied exhale and twisted the cap back on. "Don't beat yourself up, Aly," she said, sounding sympathetic. "Okay? I'm more like him than you are, and even I don't understand what you saw in him. You really wanna watch him _kill_ some guy?"

My eyes shifted up to hers and I tightened my jaw, my expression steeling. Her face recoiled slightly and she made a low whistle. "Okay…I guess you do," she commented, mostly under her breath. My fingers gripped the edge of the island so hard my knuckles were turning white. "You should probably know, _your_ boyfriend is trying to get himself killed," I stated, more venomous than I was shooting for.

But that part flew right over Dani's head. Her eyebrows knitted together. "What are you talking about?"

"He went to find Stick. Apparently Elektra is trying to kill the old geezer," I answered, rolling my eyes.

Dani groaned. "Ugh, I can't leave him alone at all, can I?" she sighed heavily and started around the island. "Guess I gotta go pull the cow out of that ditch. _Again_." I heard her feet hit the stairs. Then the pattering as she trotted down them. And finally the chime above the door jingling as she left the building. I couldn't move for a long moment. My chest was starting to hurt again.

I looked down. My fingers were burning but I hadn't even noticed it before. I'm probably gonna have bruised fingertips. But I didn't really care. All I could think about was Frank, out there somewhere completely alone, trying to find the Blacksmith by himself. All because he wanted me safe. So he pushed me away because he cared too much. Great. Well, I can't really be mad at him for that, can I?

There was no warning. No lump in my throat, no burning in my eyes. The tears just poured out. First slowly, and then they refused to stop. And then I was sobbing on the kitchen floor. All alone, with nothing but a living room full of bullet holes.


	31. What's Left of Us

**Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I don't even know what I'm doing here. Really. I don't. I heard three people arguing in the next room. I recognized their voices and then walked that way. I left the main room, stepping into a dark and dingy room filled with shelves of books. "I should've done it years ago," I heard Stick say. I glanced to the left and saw him standing at the end of the isle.

Daredevil jumped out into view, arms outstretched. He pointed at Stick with one hand and the other at Elektra, who just stepped into my view. "Shut up, Stick, you're just as bad as she is." I stopped and smiled to myself. This is hilarious. He's probably the only thing preventing them from killing each other. So why doesn't he let them? I mean, it'd save everyone a lot of trouble. But, deep down, I know why he's not. Most likely for the same reason why I'm here.

"Not quite," Stick said. "I tried to house break her. Impossible!"

"You're just another old man," Elektra said, "jealous of his disciple! You'd rather see me dead than out grow you. Well, guess what. When it comes to killing…I've always been better." She twirled her sai in her hand. Stick raised a sword and Daredevil began to protest, but my voice stopped all them in their tracks.

"I'd disagree with you on that one," I said. They froze and looked at me. "I'm better at killing than both y'all combined." I said it in a mock brag kind of way. More just to make fun of their stupid argument than anything. I could tell Daredevil and Elektra looked shocked to see me. Stick, on the other hand…I think he expected me to show up.

"You're alive," Daredevil said, sounding shocked and out of breath. I couldn't tell if he was relieved or concerned.

"And you expected something else…?" I said sarcastically. "Not surprised. You don't really know me much, these days, do you?" That made me feel better. I know one day I'll have to stop with the personal insults and move on. Today is not that day. Daredevil sighed. The other two didn't seem to care. They were too focused on the other one.

Daredevil was shoved forward from behind, toward me. He stumbled a few steps as two ninjas popped out of the wood work. Wonderful. I wasn't expecting a fight tonight. But Daredevil should have known they were here. He should've heard them coming. Of course, he didn't hear me. I instinctively took a few steps back.

Something moved to my left and I looked that way. I just barely had enough time to jump back, slamming into the door post, before a sword would've chopped me in half. The ninja was bring the sword back up as I stomped on his hands, then brought my knee up into his face in one move. He dropped the sword as I grabbed his shirt.

I hefted him up and through the glass window leading into the next room, to my left. He bounced off the desk in the next room and onto the floor. I turned around and ducked. I stood and grabbed the ninja's wrist, punching him with my other hand. I punched him three times before pushing him away from me and back out into the main isle.

I ran up to him and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying back onto the floor. I glanced around. Several ninjas were now in the room. And everyone was fighting one. I walked back over to that sword and picked it up. I walked out into the main room, twirling the sword in my hand, feeling it's weight.

The ninja I had thrown through the window was still on the ground, trying to get up. I walked up to him and then thrust the tip of my sword threw his back. I pulled it out just as Elektra drove one of her sai into the eye of a ninja. I could hear the eye bursting and the sound of the flesh tearing as she twisted it around.

I slightly grimaced, and then snapped out of it. A ninja came up behind her, while she was having fun relishing in poking that guy's eye out. I ran up to him, caught his sword with my own as he brought it down on her. I stopped the blade inches from her skin. Elektra spun, kicking the guy in the stomach. He flew back into the wall. I quickly walked up to him and drove my sword through him.

I pulled it out, the guy slumping to the ground as I turned around. Elektra looked pleased. Too pleased, almost. And then the lights went out. The room was suddenly pitch black and I couldn't see a thing. I sighed. Great. I reached into my belt and pulled out a small flash light. After working with Matt for some time now, I've learned that it's best to always have one of these. He doesn't seem to care that I can't see in the dark.

I flicked it on and then pointed it at the ceiling for maximum light. The three of us were where we were when the lights went out. But the ninjas we gone. "They're gone," Elektra said. I looked at her, practically glaring.

"Thanks, Einstein, for pointing out the blindingly obvious," I said. She scowled at me.

"They took Stick," Daredevil said. He then turned and headed for the door. Elektra quickly followed. I sighed and then joined them. I exited the building and walked up the couple of steps, leading out into an alley. I glanced around. No sign of anyone. I'm not surprised. They're ninjas. I can't stress that enough.

I turned off the flash light and put it away as Daredevil took off his mask. "How do they do that?"

"Why did you interrupt us?" Elektra asked him.

"Because you would've killed him, Elektra."

"Yes. Before he killed me. Is that so offensive to your precious code?"

"Why does he want you dead?" I asked, truly curious. I mean, I know why _I_ want her dead. But…Stick? That man's crazy. And yet, he failed to kill her. That in itself was a big mistake. Elektra looked at me with the same daggers she had in her eyes for Matt. I rolled my eyes and then took off my mask. She didn't know who I was, but she does now.

"Well, that makes sense," she scoffed.

"Elektra," Matt said. "Why?"

"What does it matter?" she tossed her arms out to the side.

"It matters because Stick never does anything without a reason. Alright? And The Hand, they didn't kill him they captured him, which means he knows something. And they're going to rip him to shreds until they know what it is."

"Good."

"Unless we get there first."

"Really?" I said. It just kind of came out. I was only supposed to think it, not sure what happened to that. "Why save him, Matt?"

"Exactly," Elektra said, pointing my way. She turned back to Matt. "You want me to help save the man who ordered my death?"

"Yes," Matt said. I groaned in frustration and walked a few steps down the alley. I cannot get dragged into this. Why does he even care what happens to Stick? He told me about how Stick left him. Just poof, gone, one day. "You really do hate me," I heard Elektra say. I was about ten feet away when I spun around on my heel.

"No, Elektra, this isn't about you. This is about Stick. I need to know why The Hand took him, and more importantly, what they're planning next."

"You've pushed everyone out of your life," I said walking back, "and now you want to risk the little you have left saving Stick?"

Matt took a step back, glancing between us. "He gave me a life when I was alone, when I had nothing. He was the one that was there for me."

"He abandoned you," Elektra said.

"From what I hear, so did you," I said.

She turned to face me. "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be at home somewhere, crying into a pillow? Or maybe even out looking for Ward?"

I froze and looked at her. Everything she was saying up until that I was passing off for nonsense. "What did you say?" It came out kind of strangled. She'd completely caught me off guard. She looked away, putting a hand on her hip. "No. Don't ignore me," I walked closer. "Where did you hear that name?" She glanced at me before looking away again.

"Elektra," Matt said. She turned and looked at him.

"That night," she said. "At the party. You'd left your phone on the counter next to me." Oh, my goodness. If she says what I think she's going to I will kill her. My eyes burned. "It rang but I didn't answer," she shrugged. "I did listen to the message, though."

"No," I shook my head and then put a hand over my mouth.

"Why would you do that?" Matt asked, just as shocked as I was.

"We were on a mission," she said it like it was a duh statement. Like he'd asked a stupid question. I felt a tear run down my cheek. I breathed heavily into my hand, trying to calm down with no luck. "I didn't want anything distracting you."

"So-" Matt stopped, clearly angry with her. He tried to rein it in, too. "Do you realize what happened, Elektra? Because you did that?"

"Yes, I do. But I don't care. We got what we needed." My throat hurt and my chest ached. I wanted to break down and have a massive pour me session. All of it was because of her.

"Had I known, I could've been there in time-" he paused and sucked in a breath. "I could've saved her."

"And we would've lost the book. Without it, we wouldn't have gotten this far," she said. "What is one girl?" I ran forward, charging at her. I managed to punch her in the face before Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me off.

"I'm going to kill you, Elektra!" I kicked and pulled against Matt. He hefted me a few feet away, his grip only getting tighter. "And I'll do it as slowly and as painfully possible!" Matt turned so his back was facing her. He set me down so my feet were on the ground, but his grip was still tight.

Tears streamed down my face. I stopped thrashing, bowing my head. I was in full sob mode. The kind of sob that shakes your whole body. The kind that's hard to return from. Besides the sobbing, I went limp in Matt's arms. My heart was physically hurting. I felt like it'd just happened, like she just died.

Matt let go of me and then spun me around to face him. He pulled me into him and held me while I cried. I heard him say something to Elektra, but I didn't care enough to listen to exactly what was said. All I could do was think about that night. I let Matt go, knowing he was meeting with Elektra and lying to me about it. He left his phone where she could get it. And then she listened to the message, deemed it not worthy enough to share, and deleted it. Matt never knew.

He had no idea. He was telling me the truth when we fought at his place a few nights ago. I've been blaming him this whole time for not coming and saving me, saving Mary, when he had no idea we needed saving. I pulled away and sniffled, trying to rein it in. I sighed, focusing on controlling my breathing.

I pushed away from Matt and stepped around him. He grabbed my wrist and held onto me. I just stared at Elektra, so proud of herself and arrogant. "I meant what I said," my voice was super nasally since my nose was now stuffed. "I _will_ kill you."

She took two steps closer to me. "I'm counting on it." She stepped back and looked at Matt. "I don't care what you do, Matthew. It won't matter when I get to him first. Because I'm going to kill him." She looked at me. I could feel all the hatred I had for her pouring out of my eyes. "And if either of you get in my way," she looked at Matt, "I'm going to kill you, too." She turned and left.

I watched her walk away until she was near the end of the alley. A strangled sob escaped me and I covered my mouth. "Hey," Matt spoke softly, pulling me closer to him. I shook my head and flicked my wrist, getting it out of his grasp. I stepped back, putting my hand up.

"No," I said, violently shaking my head. He froze, a hurt look on his face. "Don't, Matt. Okay? You can't fix _any_ of this, so just, please…stop." I took another step back and then sighed. I glanced around. "Look, I…" I sighed and looked at him. "I'll help you stop The Hand. But, then after that…after that I'm done. Okay? I don't know if it's a break or…or if it's for good, but I'm done."

"Done with what?"

"With this. With Angel, with the city, the whole stinking state…with us," I said. "What's left of us, anyway." He slightly dropped his head, looking more hurt than before. I sighed and then crossed my arms. "I still love you, Matt. I really do." He looked up at me. "But…it used to be I couldn't breathe without you. And now I can't breathe when we're together. It wasn't until you were gone that I realized that I didn't recognize myself anymore. And I still don't. Holding my bow, pulling back an arrow…" I shook my head, "it's brought me some of the worst pain, since Mary died."

I looked at him, trying to make out what he was thinking. "But, being with you…once upon a time it would've made all that go away," I said. "Now, it just makes it worse. Between Elektra and Mary-" I paused and swallowed, "-right now, I don't feel like I can trust you. I used to be fearless, and now…I'm…I'm terrified, I'm always terrified that I'll lose someone else."

"Because of me," he said. "Lose someone else…because of me."

I slightly shook my head. "I don't know," I said. "That's what I need to find out." I stood there another minute, silence filling the air. I was waiting to see if he'd say anything. And he didn't. I turned and then walked away. I don't even know if I wanted him the say anything.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The cold of the morning was beginning to burn off, but it was still icing over my hands. I shoved them into my coat pockets as I walked over to Karen. The recovery team had just pulled a body out of the water. "Karen," I said, my breath visible even in the daylight. She instantly turned around. "What are you doing here? It's six in the morning."

"Alison! Oh, thank goodness." She quickly lunged at me, wrapping her arms around me too tightly. I hugged her back to reassure her. Poor thing probably thought I was on the boat. I mean, she knew I was helping Frank. But why in the world would she think I came here? _Maybe because you did?_ She stepped back and tried for the biggest small smile she could muster. It fell short into a sloppy sympathy smile.

"I'm so sorry…" she paused, looking over at the boat. Then she looked back at me. "They haven't found a body yet. Maybe he's still alive? He could've made it off the ship-"

"Karen, Karen. Stop. It's okay," I nodded, sniffling for effect.

"You know you can go home now, right?" Mahoney said, not too far off behind me. "And what on God's green earth are you doing here, Fletcher? Blondie probably already told you, but we haven't found his body yet." I turned around to see both him and Karen, putting my back to the boat. He was giving me a look. His signature _this is ridiculous_ stare. "You don't need anything else?" Karen asked him.

"I have your statement," he shook his head. "If I need anything else, I can track you down."

"How many bodies?" I asked, curiously.

He eyed me a second. "I'm not sure I should be telling _you_ that."

I scoffed, jutting my elbows out in a gesture while keeping my hands warm in my pockets. "Why not? I'm not a reporter anymore, Brett."

"Maybe not, but you still smell like one. Always snoopin' around crime scenes, conversing with strung-outs and has-beens," he made a gesture with his hand implying I was like a dog sniffing out a bone and I rolled my eyes. "Besides, weren't you in love this psychopath just five minutes ago? Why do you care about how many bodies he leaves behind?"

My jaw clenched as my shoulders tensed, going rigid. Karen saw the look on my face and quickly chimed in. "How can you be sure he's dead when you don't even have a body?" she questioned, desperate to change the subject.

"Well, there's at least twenty or more of 'em out here. It'll take a while," he shrugged. "We'll find him." I rolled my eyes, following my eyes' rolling direction of sight and turning toward the boat. _No, you won't. You'll never find any actual evidence that he was here_. Sure, I could go to Dani's and I'd probably find him. But he doesn't wanna be found. So I'm not going looking.

I turned back to Brett and Karen after a moment and sighed. "Let's get you home, yeah?" I said, looking to Karen. She nodded, tightening the blanket around her shoulders, and I tipped my head toward my car in a gesture. We started around Mahoney and across toward my car. I didn't make it even a full five feet before Brett called, "Hey, uh…Alison."

I motioned for Karen to keep going, giving her my keys, and then I turned around. I held out my hands. "What?" I asked, tiredly. I think he could tell I was done with his fecal excrement, but he just sighed and nodded his head in a _come here_ motion. I exhaled and walked back over to stand a foot to his left as he faced the boat. "You hear anything from the vigilantes about this?" he asked, semi-hushed.

I inhaled. "No."

"Come on, don't be like that. Look, okay, I'm sorry for my comment before, alright? That wasn't professional," he apologized, turning toward me fully. I just eyed him—more like mildly glared—continuing to look completely unimpressed. "Noted," I nodded once, not in the mood. "I didn't hear anything. I didn't need to."

"Now what exactly does _that_ mean?" he asked, bracing himself.

"I saw the original explosion. Castle was on the boat. He's dead." I looked left, at the boat, and let the words sink in a bit. If they were true and not just some half-baked-idea lie I'd probably be crying when I said them. "Wait- you were here _last night_? _I_ didn't see you," he pointed out, disbelieving. I made the mistake of looking down at the recently recovered body. The officers were just zipping up the bag.

But it was enough to get a good look at the man's charred face. I sighed, looking back to Mahoney. Now my stomach was nauseas. Great. "Of course you wouldn't, I know Daredevil, he disappears on everyone," I reasoned, more annoyed sounding than anything. I exhaled to calm myself. "Look, you were right about one thing."

He raised an eyebrow, curious. "And that is…?"

"I was in love with the psychopath five minutes ago," I smiled humorlessly and he gave me a look. "See you around, Brett."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

After a good night's sleep, on what's left of Alison's couch, I met up with Matt at Nelson and Murdock. I had to call him. I guess he didn't think I was serious about seeing this through. Though I don't blame him. Last night was a tough night. A normal guy would've had a hard time reading me, let alone someone who couldn't see my face. And you have on top of that that I wasn't letting him read my heart. He hates that.

In some ways I think it's cheating. But…it's the only way he can know whether we're being sarcastic or telling the truth. I can read someone's facial expressions; learn their pattern, when they're lying. He does the same thing, just more on a personal level. But, anyway…he said to meet him here so I did.

He thinks The Hand went underground, maybe the subway tunnels. It's a start, I guess. Do you realize how many tunnels go under this city? Let alone the state. I've been sitting in this chair, staring at a map of the subway tunnels for the last twenty minutes. And, nothing. I sighed, finally giving up. I lowered the map and then folded it.

Matt was at the desk, reading something. We haven't said more than five words since we got here. I don't know…maybe it's better this way. Maybe we just shouldn't be together. Maybe this is how it should stay. Part of me wants that. But the part that still wants him…is too injured right now to have a say in the matter.

I stood and stretched. Then I put the map on the desk. I put my hands on my hips and looked around the room, at the run down law firm. My eyes went to the door as Foggy walked in. He was clearly on a mission. His left arm was in a sling from that bullet he took when the DA was killed. He stopped a few feet in the door, looking a little shocked. "Didn't expect to see you two together any time soon," he shook his head and then continued.

"We're not," Matt said. Foggy stopped in the doorway of his office and looked at us. "We're just, uh…wrapping things up."

"What? A mission?"

I glanced at Matt. He nodded. "Yeah. Last one." Then he went back to his book.

"Last one?" Foggy asked, looking at me. "You guys are done? For good?"

"We're done as a team," I said. "And…I don't know. I might be done as a hero." Foggy's expression slightly saddened, looking down. I knew he knew why. That all this was because of Mary's death. He slightly nodded, showing that he understood. "I can see that," he said. "Are you sticking around?" he asked cautiously.

I glanced at Matt before replying. His hands had stopped moving across the page, waiting for my answer. "I, uh…I don't know. I don't know anything, really. As far as staying in the city…who knows? I had planned on never moving again, but things change." Foggy nodded. "But I need to get away for a while. Clint has invited me to live with him for a while, and I think I might take him up on the offer."

"Your cousin?" Foggy asked and I nodded. Matt straightened, putting his hands on his hips. "You should go, take a break. Where does he live? Around here?"

"No," I shook my head. "He…well, technically that's classified," I slightly chuckled. Foggy smiled. "But it's, like, six states away. At least." I looked at Matt. His jaw was clenched, slightly off to the side. I know that he's mad. Maybe annoyed. But I don't think it's at me. I think it's at himself. Because he couldn't keep me.

"Wow," Foggy said. "Good for you, Dylan." He nodded and then walked into his office. Matt walked around the desk and followed him, stopping in the door way. They started talking as Clint walked in, carrying Lizzie. I smiled and walked up to them. "Hey," I said. Lizzie reached out for me, on the verge of falling out of his arms. I pulled her into my arms, resting her on my hip. I rested my cheek on the top of her head as she looked around. "You guys heading out?"

"Yeah," Clint said. "You sure you don't want to come, now?"

I shook my head. "No." I looked down at Lizzie. "I'm not done here, yet." My voice had gone flat. I sighed, telling myself I'd see them in a few days.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" I looked up at Clint. He was looking off over my shoulder. I turned and saw Matt walking back to the desk. I turned back. "No, it's fine, Clint," I said. He looked down at me. "Really. It's fine. Besides, Laura could use a hand. She's at home with three little ones now."

"Yeah, soon to be four," he pointed at Lizzie.

Foggy walked up and stopped a few feet from us. "What are you two doing here?"

"He's taking Lizzie to his place," I said. "Right now it's safer and I can't watch her."

"Didn't even know you were in town," Foggy said to Clint.

"I've been staying at a hotel," he said. "Alison's wasn't quite big enough."

"Sure you don't want to stick around? These guys might need some help."

"That's what _I_ said," Clint glared at me.

"It'll be fine," I sighed. "Now, go home and see Nate."

"His name's Nathaniel."

"Not when I'm around," I said, handing back Lizzie.

"Who?" Foggy asked smiling.

"My son," Clint said. "He's only a few weeks old."

"Congratulations, then."

"Thanks." I hugged Clint. "Be safe." He glanced over my shoulder again. "Watch your back." I knew that was more for Matt's benefit. Clint still isn't too happy with him. Though I haven't told him what I just found out last night. It probably wouldn't change his mind. I sighed. "I will," I smiled. "Bye, Lizzie." I held her hand as she gnawed on the other. I pulled her fist out of her mouth.

"Bye," she said, drawing out the E sound. I smiled. Is it bad if a child's first word is 'bye'? Something tells me yes. But no one else knows that was her first word, so I just smiled and moved on. I waved as Clint walked out the door, Lizzie waving back. "Text me when you get there," I said.

"Yes, Ma'am," I heard Clint call back as they disappeared around the corner. I just stood there, staring at the door. Foggy sighed next to me. "Where has the time gone?" he asked. "They grow up so fast. Seems like yesterday she was just a foot long burrito."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I know what you mean." I turned to face him.

"You can do it."

"What?"

"Raise her. And you'll do a darn good job, too," he said. I shrugged. I crossed my arms and then glanced around. My eyes landed back on Foggy. He smiled and then walked to the door. He stopped and then turned around in the doorway. "Dani." I looked at him, eye brows raised questioningly. "When you get back…look me up?"

I smiled with a nod. "Will do." He smiled and then was gone. I turned around and then walked back over to the desk. "Ideas?"

"Foggy thinks they're in the sewer," Matt said.

"Well…that'll be fun." I grabbed my jacket off the back of the chair. A cold draft was drifting through the room. I slipped it on and then crossed my arms. He was staring down at the table, his hands on his hips. I looked up at me. "Dani…" he started, but stopped.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow.

"What you said to me, at the café that night. About not wanting to be in love-"

"Matt, I was drunk."

"Which is why you told me," he said. "I _know_ you, Elizabeth. Whether you want to admit it or not, I do. And I know you meant every word you said to me. Which is why I think it's my turn."

I nodded. "Fair enough. I'm listening."

It took him a second to start talking. "It's been ten years since I ever loved anyone, and I thought I never would again. No one ever stood out to me, made me feel like I could tell them who I was, what I can do. And, yeah, just like you, I never planned on this. Falling for Angel or Dani…" he shook his head. "I never planned on that. I fell in love with two separate people, okay? The one I could be myself with and the one I had to hid it from. There were things I liked and didn't like about both, and yet I loved them just the same.

"But when I found out they were the same person…and that I might have just lost them…I had never regretted anything more in my life. I had known both you're halves yet never known _you_. The real Dani and Angel, the one you let no one see. And, despite never knowing her, I knew that that was the girl I had really loved, the one that connected the two halves." He dropped his arms and sighed. "This whole time you thought I loved one or the other. You never knew that I loved neither of them. Because Elizabeth Barton, that 'broken girl' you keep running from?

"She's the one I love. Her. Who she was, what she's become. Even the part of her that kills." I swallowed hard, staring at him. "And I…I never told you that. Had I, a lot of this would've been different. But I'm telling you now, not to try and win you back or 'fix it' or justify my actions somehow. I'm telling you because…I released that, that love I had ten years ago? It means _nothing_ , compared to the love I have for you, all of you. I want you to leave, take some time and do what you need to," he said. "But when you're ready…and with your permission…I'd like to start rebuilding your trust."

I was speechless, completely at a loss for words. My mouth even hung open slightly. All I could do was stare at him. And he was completely serious. I…like, what do you say after that? My vision blurred in my left eye. There are too many emotions swirling around in my head. The one thing that I kept coming back to was 'how?'

How can he love me like that? How can he mean what he said? With his high moral standard, how can he love the killer in me? How come, out of every other woman, he chose me? Elektra's killed too, and he turned her down. So why me? "I'm not worth it, you deserve someone else," I blurted.

"And yet…you're the one I'm telling this to."

"Matt, you're not even making any sense-"

"And I don't have to for it to be true." I closed my mouth and glanced around. I looked back up at him. "Just…" he said softly, "think about it."

"I will," I nodded.


	32. Karen

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I sighed, standing in the center of my living room. This is pathetic really. The couch needed to be replaced and the walls spackled over and repainted. The carpet needed replaced from clear back when Dani was shot. I mean, it's like I only _just_ got this place livable and now I have to do it all over again? _Better start now. Just pick something and do it_. The couch was going to take at least two people to get down the stairs.

So I left it and, instead, gathered up what remained of my coffee table and hoofed it down the stairs. The phone started ringing just as I made it down to the ground floor. With a huff, I dropped the pieces of table by the counter and shuffled over to the phone. I eyed the number. It wasn't one I recognized. Just then, the front door bell chimed. Apparently someone doesn't know what the closed sign on the door means.

I sighed heavily and turned, opening my mouth. But I stopped dead cold when I was it was Frank that walked in the door. I took in a sharp breath. A sudden anger filled my chest and I marched toward him. "Alison, I-" I cut him off with my hand across his face. His head remained to the right a moment, pushed to the side from my hit. I pointed a finger at him. "Don't," I warned, firmly. "You let me believe you were _dead_ , Frank! But, oh, you're okay. You just don't want me around. I had to find out from _Dani_! How could you do that? After all we've been through?"

"You thought I was dead?" The question was genuine. His head tilted as his eyebrow went up a little, his eyes narrowing curiously. That was all he got from that rant? I nodded once, taking a step back, and he sighed through his nose. "Look, Alison…I never wanted that, okay? I'm sorry it looked like that. That wasn't supposed to happen."

I crossed my arms. "Why'd you throw me over?"

"What, like I was gonna keep you on board, watch you die because you're too stubborn to get out of the way?" He huffed a chuckle at the last bit, obviously trying to lighten the already tense situation here. I saw his point there. My mind went to the boat. The vibration of the explosion from underwater. The incredible emptiness when I got back on land and actually saw the flames.

"I thought…I thought I _lost_ you," I said, trying not to cry. "Don't you get it? I don't want to be alive if you're not."

I looked left, the side of the Café becoming a blurry haze, and I took a deep breath. "Hey…come here." Frank stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I buried my face in his shirt and the scent of gun powder and week old laundry detergent filled my nose. My whole body flooded with relief, relaxing as his hand slowly moved up and down my back to calm me. I felt his lips press to my right temple.

Then his voice filled my ear, his breath dancing across my skin. "I'm so sorry…I'm right here, you hear me? We're okay," he said, on a whisper. "I'm not going anywhere." My mind was put mostly at ease by that. There was the usual shaky, jittery, can't go a moment without crying that I always have. But anything unnecessary was gone. Though, I wasn't about to tell him that. Being in his arms again felt too good to interrupt it now.

Just one more breath, one more moment, and I'll step back. At least, that's what I told myself. I was able to pull myself away enough to at least raise my head to look at him. His face was still free parking for about a hundred bruises. He looked like he just went through a war. But his muddy brown eyes were softened, shifting to mine. "I would never do anything to hurt you," he said, surely. " _Never_."

"I know…I know." I managed a small nod, exhaling to try and finish reining it in. He brought up a hand and pushed my hair behind my right ear, then slid his hand down to cup my cheek, his thumb easing across my cheekbone absentmindedly.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, my eyes flickering up to his.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Do you have any idea who the real Blacksmith is?" That caused him to sigh through his nose and look away a moment. Normally it would be curious, but I've had a hunch for a while now. He was so passive about it when I asked who shot up my house. I'd filed it away to worry about later but the boat scenario got me thinking. "Yeah, I know who he is," he answered, his shoulders dropping a bit.

He finally looked back at me and I could tell he was bracing himself. Waiting for me to haul off and either hit him or yell at him. I tilted my head in an expression. "How long have you known?"

"I've had a pretty good idea for a while now, but…I know for sure thanks to last night," he explained, calmly. "Remember the Colonel your lawyer buddies got to testify in court?" A sinking feeling hit my chest. No. _Really? His own Colonel is behind this?_ I nodded, my features softening, "I remember."

He exhaled. "It's him."

"But, why would he come home a war hero just to throw it away to join the drug scene?" I inquired, mostly just thinking out loud. "I mean, besides the cash. Obviously I have a lot less respect for that idiot now. Wait…if you know it's him, why isn't he dead yet?"

"He's got kids, a wife—family. They've got nothing to do with this," he shook his head.

A thought came to mind, and I stood up a little straighter. "So then we stake out his place, map his routine, find the perfect time to get him alone," I reasoned. He eyed me a second, pausing. His eyebrow was rising the more the eyes were narrowing. "'We'?" he repeated.

I inhaled. "Yes, _we_ , Frank. I'm practically the queen of stakeouts. How do you think I got any of the _good_ stories?"

"Okay," he agreed, sighing through his nose. "On one condition. You _stay_ in the car."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

Daredevil pulled the man hole cover off and set it aside. Then he began his descent. There was no ladder or anything, so we just have to shimmy down it like Santa and a chimney. I heard him hit the bottom and then waited for the all clear to come down. "Okay," I heard him chirp in my ear piece.

Clint knew what we were up against, and doesn't like Matt anymore, so he brought me a new toy. Before, Matt could always here me but I could never hear him back. Now I can. Matt's the only one with a mic, though. We figured, if I had one, I'd probably blow out his ear drums because of his super sensitive ears. But at least now I can hear him and we can communicate. In a fight, that is.

I slowly worked my way down the circular tube, and then dropped the last eight feet or so. I straightened and then glanced around. Dark tunnels on both sides. Great. The only light was what was above us coming in from the man hole. I sighed. "I can't see anything down here," I sounded annoyed. Because I was. I really would like to be able to lead myself down here without someone holding my hand. And what if we get into a fight? I can't see anything.

Daredevil hesitantly held his hand out my way. I glanced down at it, then up at him. The look on my face was like 'you want me to touch THAT?!' I rolled my eyes, knowing I was being ridiculous. I took his hand and then we started walking. And walking, and walking, and, or hey…more walking. It's times like these that I wish I had better insoles.

Every once in a while some light would appear from nowhere. But it was always very brief, so I never let go of his hand. We walked for…oh, about five miles. I think. Could've been more…could've been less. Don't know. But it was a lot. I mainly followed the whole way. Daredevil was clearly listening to something, so I trusted his ears and just went with it. I needed the work out anyway.

We stopped at a cross road. The world's biggest 'T'. The strip of tunnel we were on, branched out into a million possibilities. I let go of his hand, being able to see some with a small amount of light coming from who knows where, and the spun around looking at our options. I looked back at Daredevil. He was listening, probably trying to figure it out.

I sighed and then turned around, looking back the way we came. I heard his footsteps walk away from me, and then stop about ten feet later. I rolled my eyes and then turned around. Three ninjas stood between us. And it appeared Daredevil had no idea they were there.

The one closets to me swung his sword at my head and I ducked. My butt hit the ground and then I kicked out, my foot hitting his knee cap. The move was followed by a loud cracking sound. He fell forward as I grabbed his wrist. I pushed him to the left. He hit the ground as I drove the sword through him. I stood, yanking the sword out of him.

I turned and looked at Daredevil. He had just flipped one of the other two onto his back. They tossed their swords as they stood, running into the shadows. "Where'd they go?" Daredevil asked, breathing heavily. I looked around, studying the shadows. I shook my head. Great. No we're both blind.

I can't see them and Matt can't hear them. I vigorously looked around, not wanting them to catch me off guard. My sword was pointed straight out in front of me, ready to cut someone in half. I heard something behind me and whirled around. Daredevil was on one knee, blood running from his nose.

I ran up to him, catching a glimpse of something moving to my right. I held out my hand for him as I looked that way. "You okay?" I asked as he took my hand. He stood, looking down the tunnel the ninja went, clearly listening.

"I've got him."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Yeah, great idea. Agree to go on a stakeout in a vehicle I'm pretty sure was stolen with someone that doesn't say much as a general rule. My foot tapped on the floor of the passenger side a bit. We've been sitting outside his house for hours. "If you're bored, you can leave," he offered, keeping his face aimed toward the house. I haven't seen his eyes since we got here.

I sighed, readjusting my position to lean more to the left. "I'm not bored."

"You're a terrible liar."

"So I've been told," I bobbed my head in a nod, eyeing the house. "You know, this guy hasn't left all day. What does he _do_ in there? Think he's got a Batcave?" For the first time in over three hours, he turned his head to look at me. His expression was like he was hoping I wasn't serious in my last question. Like he couldn't believe I'd ever actually be curious about something like that. Of course I was joking. Only Chase would ever _really_ ask that question.

I shrugged innocently. "What?"

He huffed a small chuckle and turned back to look at the house. Just then, a familiar car pulled up into the driveway of the house. I sat up in my seat, my heart lurching into my throat. "No…no, no, no," I mumbled, leaning toward the steering wheel to see better.

"What? Who is it?" Frank asked.

Karen got out of the car and shut her door and I groaned. "It's Karen- I know her, she works at Nelson and Murdock," I explained, quickly, watching in horror as she went up to the door. She rang the door bell and stood back to wait. "This is bad. This is very bad." Who knows? Maybe he won't even answer the door? Right as I thought that, the jerk opened the front door to greet Karen. _And he let her in_. The door shut behind them.

I inhaled and slid back in my seat, reaching for the door. "That's it. I'm going in."

"No, you're not," Frank's hand gripped my upper arm, just tight enough to stop me. "Stay in the car, remember? She'll be fine."

I turned to him. "Frank, the only reason she'd be here is because she knows he's involved in the park shooting. So, no, she will not be fine. She'll let it slip that she knows and he'll kill her. Let me go." He just looked at me for a moment's pause. But he sighed heavily and retracted his hand, and I quickly pushed out of the truck. I shut my door and high tailed it across the street.

This was probably the worst idea ever. But I know Karen. It's not a matter of _if_ she'll slip up, it's a matter of _when_. I jammed my finger into the door bell and tried to flatten my hair, make it look like I was here to work with Karen on whatever lie she'd told the Colonel. A second past and he pulled the door open. He smiled politely. "Hello. Can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, um, I was supposed to meet Karen Page here? I guess she couldn't wait for me," I chuckled nervously, to hide my lack of breath from running so fast so soon. "May I come in?" He pulled the door open all the way, stepping back to usher me inside. "Yes, of course," he nodded.

I nodded in thanks and stepped inside. He shut the door and I held out my hand. "Alison Fletcher," I smiled.

He shook my hand. "Ray Schoonover," he smiled back. Then he dropped my hand, gestured for me to follow him as he started into a side room to the left. "Ms. Page is right in here. We were just discussing Frank's life prior to this whole event." I inhaled and followed in behind him. Karen turned around from a wall of pictures to the right of the doorway and paused.

I walked over to her and snatched her notebook. "There you are. I told you to wait for me outside," I scoffed, pretending to sift through her notes. "What have you already covered?"

"Oh, um…just this list here." She seemed to get that something was going on, pointing to a blank page I'd stopped on. I turned to look at the Colonel apologetically. He was leaning back into the desk by the front windows. "Sorry, she's new at the Bulletin," I apologized. "I'm supposed to show her the ropes. Gosh, I'm always late." I chuckled again, making light.

"Oh, well, it's fine by me. I don't really have anything else to do tonight," he waved it away.

I handed Karen her book back, steeling just eyes, praying she would get the message. _Finish it. Say you're done and get out_. She stared at me a moment, her expression dropping, but then she snapped out of it and turned to face the Colonel. She plastered on a bright face. "Colonel, uh…did you happen to catch the news last night? There was a boat explosion?"

I internally facepalmed. What are you doing Karen? The Colonel thought a moment, and then nodded slowly. "Yes, yes. I think I remember hearing something about that. A drug deal gone wrong or something?" he replied, still unsure.

"Right, yeah, something like that," Karen nodded. "Um, just between you and me…the NYPD is keeping things under wraps until the investigation is complete, but…Frank was involved. He was on the ship when it went up." Colonel Schoonover bowed his head with a saddened sigh, pursing his lips. Karen glanced at me and I shook my head. She seemed to get it this time.

The Colonel looked up. "The police are sure?"

"They don't have an ID yet," I shrugged, stepping in. I quickly ran through as many bad memories as I could. The more the better. My eyes stung but it wasn't quite enough to pass for a full cry. "Oh, sorry, I just, um…" I shook my head, turning around to face the wall of pictures. Karen put a hand on my shoulder.

"Fletcher…that name sounds familiar," the Colonel thought aloud. "You were the one the papers said was in love with him, weren't you? I knew I recognized something about you." I wiped off the fake tears and turned around to face him with a small smile. "Yeah, that was me," I nodded.

He smiled. "Well, is it true? Papers can print a lot of gossip nowadays…"

"It's true. That's why I wanted this assignment—to kind of…get a perspective of who he was before The Punisher," I lied, bobbing my head a little. He nodded in understanding and his eyes shifted to my right, to Karen, who was eyeing the pictures behind me. Oh no. He sat up a little more against the desk. "Some men turn their backs on you. They wanna forget. Not Gosnell," he held his chin up. "Took the worst part of an IED on a recon, north of Cabul."

I turned halfway to see what Karen was looking at, but still kept an eye on Schoonover. "Left half his face on a dirt road, spent the better part of a year in the hospital…but that kid never gave up," the Colonel finished, as Karen slowly turned around. Her eyes shown right through her. She knew. There was a picture on the wall. Frank and Schoonover stood at the bedside of a wounded soldier.

But the wounded one's face was clear enough. We saw his body being pulled out of the water at the docks just this morning. "It's late…I think we'll get out of your hair," Karen said, walking over to her coat, draped across a chair. "We have everything we need, Alison?"

I nodded a little, eyeing Schoonover. "Yep."

He stared right back at me. He knew we knew what he'd done. But he didn't seem too concerned with Karen at the moment. It's almost like he knew I was packing. Like he was silently daring me to make a scene, spill some blood on his freakishly perfect rugs. "Once he got out, he tracked me down. Asked me how he could serve me again," he continued. "That boy was the definition of loyal. Or was, before Frank Castle murdered him."

In a second, he reached behind him and pulled out a pistol, cocking it back and aiming it at me. But at the same time, I pulled out my own, aiming it at his chest. Karen whirled on a gasp, looking between the both of us. "You don't wanna do this," I shook my head. Mostly because I knew if anything happened to me tonight this guy wouldn't just get a merciful bullet to the head.

"Put it down or she dies," he aimed the gun at Karen, causing her to flinch.

I inwardly groaned. _Why, Karen, why?_ I sighed heavily and slowly put the gun on the floor, then stood upright, nudging it over toward him. "Obedient. That's good," the Colonel nodded. Then, without blinking, he pulled the trigger. Karen recoiled, a red hole forming in the center of her chest.

My eyes widened and I shrieked, "Karen!"

She fell to her knees and collapsed to the floor, gasping for an even breath. My heart sank. No. _No, no, no, no, no_. This cannot be happening. I quickly knelt down beside her and pressed my hands to the wound. "Karen? Karen, _look_ at me. Hold on, okay? You're gonna be okay." I nodded as her eyes shifted up to mine, even though I knew it was a lie. Blood pushed through the cracks in my fingers. There was too much of it.

My eyes became too blurry. I blinked hard and got a moment of clarity, and I could see as her eyes started to close, a line of blood coming from the left corner of her mouth. "No, no, no- Karen? Karen!" I tried to get her attention, but she'd fallen limp. Eyes closed, chest unmoving. I stared in disbelief. She was dead. Karen was just…gone.

"Come on, we don't have all day." A force yanked me up to my feet and I was yanked away, whirling to face the Colonel. His gun remained trained on me. "Why did she have to die?" I questioned, venomously. "She didn't do anything, you sick monster!"

"No, but she knew too much. And so do you—so don't get your hopes up. Let's go for a drive." He jutted his gun in the direction of the door and I took a deep breath. I couldn't hold back my glare of pure rage and distain, but I started for the door. This was just great. Karen is dead and now I'm next and he's taking me to Lord knows where to finish me off. _Good job, Alison. Way to help out, you champ_.


	33. Sticks and Stones

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

"Get in." Colonel Schoonover shoved the barrel of the gun in my side and I rolled my eyes, unlocking Karen's car. Well, it used to be Ben's. But she'd felt bad about using it so she gave me a spare set of keys in case I wanted to use it instead. I never needed them until now. No way was I going to pick pocket Karen's body for the keys.

I unlocked the door and pulled it open, climbing it. I moved over behind the wheel and he slid into the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. "Start the car," he instructed.

"Wow, never would've thought of that," I mocked, under my breath as I started the car. The engine roared to life and suddenly music boomed through the speakers. I paused. I know that song. It's on Chase's CDs, but why would Karen have…oh. It's not Karen's. It is Chase's CD. "Drive. And shut that awful music off," he demanded. He turned off the music as I pulled out of the driveway.

My eyes scanned the space across the small island of grass in the street. Frank's truck was gone. _Okay. Stay calm, Alison. He's got a plan_. He's got to if he just ditched me with this psycho. We started driving and silence settled in. His gun remained trained on me at all times. "You seem like a smart woman. Tell me something, why'd you even show up at my house? And don't give me some line about a story," he said, sounding annoyed.

I tightened my grip on the wheel. "Because I know who you are. I've known since you shot up my apartment."

It was a lie but it got his attention. I glanced at him a second before settling my eyes on the road. He seemed taken off track but he continued on. "And what? You're here for revenge? Last I checked, you turned up alive after that shooting," he recalled, mocking.

"I came for Karen, you moron," I spat.

"Right," he laughed. "You really expect me to believe that?"

 _No. But you're just dumb enough to make it work_. My eyes scanned the trees. Nothing. I shifted my focus forward. I can't really act like I know anything. If I do, it'll tip him off. "Pull over, here's good," he decided, after a couple more minutes of driving. My insides started to knot. "I said, pull over."

I turned to glare at him just as I saw it. A big grey pickup truck barreling toward the car. I ducked left. Then the truck slammed into the passenger side of the car, cratering it in. The force knocked me forward, my forehead slamming into the steering wheel. I gasped in a breath as my eyes shot open. My whole body ached. I turned my head a little. Schoonover was gone. He wasn't even anywhere near the car as far as I could tell.

Wait a second, I passed out? For how long? My hand brushed something soft on my lap and I glanced down. A wool blanket was draped across my front. What the…? I pushed it off as best as I could and unclipped my seatbelt. Then I had to slow down. My head was swirling, throbbing. Heat was slowly sliding toward my left temple from a little higher up. I was bleeding. But there was nothing I could do about it here. So I pushed on.

Once I got my seatbelt off, I pushed open the door. It swung out and I nearly dropped right out of the car. I grabbed the wheel to hold me in place, pulling something in my right side. I audibly winced. If this was Frank's idea of a good plan, he was sorely mistaken. I gritted my teeth and slowly got my feet out of the car. First the left then the right. Just rip the bandage off already. I slid out, my feet taking all my weight, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

Everything in me burned. My head felt off kilter, dizzying. All my muscles felt like wet noodles. A muffled cry escaped me as I pushed against the car to stand up. Once I finally got all the way standing, I eased myself along the side of the car toward the road. My eyes instantly caught sight of the long smear of blood on the pavement.

It trailed from the passenger side of the car to a couple yards ahead, and then a sharp veer to the left, into the trees. I groaned and pushed off the car. My feet stumbled a second but I just barely caught myself enough to keep moving. Obviously, this was a bad idea. Helping Frank get his justice and seeing him actually carry it through were two completely different things. But I know exactly how he will feel afterward.

And it will feel like _Hell_ by himself. How do I know that? Because I already went through it and it was the worst experience of my life. So I marched on. I stepped across the divot between the pavement and dirt and started into the trees. My feet couldn't help but stumble every few steps. It was like the wires in my brain were too frazzled to hold them steady. My head was throbbing so hard I feared it might actually burst.

But I kept moving. I could hear voice echoing from not far off after just a minute of walking. They weren't too far from me. That was motive to pick up the pace. It didn't take long for me to catch up. Frank practically threw the Colonel into the base of a tree and stepped back, unzipping his jacket. "Frank," I called, not fifteen feet away.

"Ah, there she is," the Colonel said, mocking.

Frank sighed through his nose, glancing at me. "Go wait in the car."

"No," I shook my head. "I'm not leaving."

"Trouble in paradise?" Schoonover barked a fake laugh. "Ha! You had to know it would end sometime. Go on, Frank, tell her why we're here. Tell her why all of this happened."

"With all due respect Colonel, shut up," I snapped at him, demeaning. I looked to Frank. He was looking down, breathing raggedly. I could tell he was thinking heavily about something. I just couldn't tell what. But I had a pretty good idea. "Alison…remember the docks?" he asked, semi-quiet, refusing to look at me. "Things are gonna get ugly now. So go wait in the car."

What am I, five? I drew in a breath. "If I say no…are you gonna shoot me again?" It may sound like something innocent. But it was a low jab I knew he would understand. I was too annoyed about the events of tonight not to snap. And the second I did, his head turned toward me, that familiar wild look to his eyes. And suddenly, I regretted saying anything at all. Too late now. He inhaled and turned to the Colonel, starting for him.

He grabbed the man by his jacket collar and started dragging him toward the shack. My shoulders dropped. "Frank. Frank! If you do this right now, you won't feel better- this won't make anything better," I called, only to be ignored. He kicked open the door to the shack and hefted Schoonover in. "You'll only feel dead inside, do you hear me? It won't fix _anything_!" Frank turned on the lights and gave a good kick to the man's side.

Then he turned to me, pausing in the doorway. I tilted my head slightly in a pleading expression. Silently begging him not to shut me out. Begging him not to do anything to Schoonover in that shack. But deep down I knew nothing I could say or do would ever change his mind. "I'm already dead," he said, stoic. He stepped back and slammed the door shut. My body jolted with the slam of the door. The muscles in my leg tightened.

I hissed, moving to sit down. I braced a tree for support as I dropped my weight on the ground. Something in my right leg was seriously burning. I did my best to lean forward, reach down, and pulled up my pant leg. Sure enough the higher I went the more blood I revealed. There was a gash along the mid section of my calf that was a good six inches long. It wasn't bleeding too hard, but it hurt too much to go unnoticed.

It was that prickling, burning, pins and needles stinging over the whole area. Suddenly a loud shot rang out and I jumped a little, startled. I looked up at the shack. Blood was splattered on the inside of the window to the right of the door. My stomach felt sick, tossed like a salad. I took a deep breath and focused back on the cut in my leg. I had no real medical anything anywhere near here. So I would have to improvise.

I unzipped my jacket and grabbed the hem of my shirt. Usually I have at least a pocket knife on me but I couldn't remember if I'd even brought it. So I used my free hand to reach back, feel my pockets. There was a hard lump in my back left pocket. I sighed with relief and pulled out my knife, sliding the blade free. Then I cut into the shirt. I only took a strip along the front that was about two inches wide.

Then I dropped the knife beside me and leaned forward again to reach my leg. My knee was already hiked up as much as I could muster. I worked as quickly as I could to start wrapping the fabric around my leg. More specifically, around the cut on my leg. It burned harder as it did and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. This was insane. I'm sitting out in the middle of stinking nowhere, bleeding, slowly freezing to death, with nothing but my clothes as a bandage.

This was not good. It was far from it, actually. I finished wrapping it up as far as I could and then used the remaining inches to tie it tight. The pressure added an extra level of stinging and I audibly wince, hissing with a cringe. This was going to need stitches for sure. Once I finished, I sucked in a breath and grabbed onto the tree beside me. I used it to help pull myself up using only my upper body if possible.

My head swirled and my vision crossed for a split second. I probably have a mild concussion. I reached a hand up to my forehead. The small cut up there, near my temple, was still bleeding but it'd slowed quite a bit. I moved to take a step forward but my leg screamed in protest and I stopped. Humming in place of screaming, I pressed my forehead into the bark of the tree, closing my eyes tightly. "Alison."

I lifted my head as slowly as possible, only able to look up a second after Frank appeared at my side. His eyes scanned me—raking over the wound on my head—before his gaze fell to my eyes. His expression was softened, saddened. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

I took a deep breath to keep my stomach from turning. "You don't have a _home_ ," I repeated, sounding a little emptier than I planned. It just slipped in. "That's what you told me, remember? So _where_ are we gonna go? Candy Land?" He sighed and slid an arm around my middle, bending. I was confused for a split second before suddenly my feet were pulled off the ground as he hefted me into his arms bridal style—an easy feat for him, I'm sure.

My head was jostled slightly, causing me to close my eyes a second to ride out a small headache. "Just shut up, okay?" He said it with the gentlest, softest voice, and I probably would've laughed if I was in better spirits. I exhaled and leaned into him, letting my head lay on his shoulder as he started walking.

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We walked for another mile or two. Most of it in total darkness. Daredevil was leading the way. He's been listening to something ever since those ninjas vanished. He said he was tracking their blood. Whether that means sound or smell I don't know. And I don't really care right now. I just want this whole thing to be over.

We turned left, walking through an open gated door. The room was a dead end with nothing but a metal ladder. Daredevil walked up to it and froze. He looked up. I could tell by the cock of his head that he heard something. He grabbed the ladder and started climbing. I sighed and then walked up to it, slipping my sword into my quiver. I waited till he was a little ways up before climbing it myself.

We climbed for quite a ways. It was probably about fifty feet or so. We were now engulfed in darkness. So I was climbing blind. Pray I don't slip. I sighed and stopped, hearing him do the same. Small places don't bother me. Small places where I can't see anything…? Maybe a little. Just think happy thoughts. Which right now I don't have anything happy.

A metal door swung open which was covering the opening, shinning light down on us. I sighed with relief as Daredevil made his was out of the tunnel. I climbed the last few feet and then practically flew out of there. I was very happed when my feet hit land. I glanced around the room. We were what looked like some kind of factory. I could be wrong. It has happened before.

I paused. Four more ninjas stood here and there. Daredevil, of course, had no idea they were there. I reached back and grabbed the hilt of the sword, feeling my heart beat quicken with a shot of adrenaline. I exhaled, steadying my heart, as I drew my sword. Daredevil turned to face me as a ninja decked him. He literally walked right into that one.

I jumped off the platform I was on, making my move to help when a ninja attacked me. All I saw was a leg slamming into my stomach. My butt slammed back into the edge of the platform as the air escaped my lungs. The ninja moved for another hit. I curled to the left and moved out of the way, his leg slamming into the wall. I spun around to face him. I kicked him in the chin and then drove my sword into him.

He fell as I was pushed from behind. I stumbled forward, losing my grip on the sword. It remained in the guy's body as I regained my balance. I quickly glanced at Daredevil. His back was against the wall, two ninjas beating him. He tried to fight back and failed. It's almost like these guys enjoy it.

The ninja who'd pushed me was now walking toward me. I readied to face him as a cord wrapped around my neck from behind. The fabric of my suit was preventing the cord from touching my skin, but that didn't stop it from chocking me. I stumbled back, the ninja tightening the cord. I grabbed at it, trying to get myself some slack. But it didn't work.

I knew I was on my own but had no idea how to get out of this. I sighed and tried to breathe. Literally. The ninja in front of me moved on to Daredevil to join the other guy kicking his butt. Okay, now I'm down to one. Surely I can do this. I tried all the normal moves I would use to get out of this situation and none of it was working. The cord only got tighter.

I forced the guy backwards, trying to slam him into something. And it worked. We did hit something, but he didn't loosen his grip. Using the cord around my neck like a short leash, he swung me down and to the left. My head slammed into the three foot tall concrete plat form. It bounced off and then he did it again. That coupled with the lack of oxygen and my knees buckled.

My eyes watered and my vision was becoming blurred. No air was going into my lungs. I was now on the ground, on my knees. I could feel blood trickling down my forehead. I gasped for a breath but there was no way that was happening. The room spun. My hand slipped from my neck and my arms fell limp at my side. My eyes closed.

A split second before I passed out, and believe me that was the next step, I fell to the ground. I slammed into the concrete floor, the cord gone from my neck. I gasped, sucking in as much air as I could, feeling the life rush back into me. "Angel!" I slowly moved to roll over as hands grabbed me and forced me over. I opened my eyes and saw Daredevil. He was crouched next to me, holding me.

I was coughing and sputtering, my wind pipe was having some trouble inflating. The body's first reaction is to freak out. It always is. Most times, the body is its own down fall. Even though I wanted to freak out that I couldn't breathe still, I focused on trying to calm down. I was alive. I just have to be patient while my body figures that part out.

"Angel." I was still coughing and struggling to breathe. He sounded on the verge of being frantic with concern. I don't need a hospital I just need a minute. I looked up at him and then down at his hand. It was resting on my stomach. I grabbed it with my right hand. He quickly looked down at it, seeming slightly confused as to why I grabbed his hand.

I stared up at him. I squeezed his hand three times, then waited a few seconds and did it again. It's a long story, but it was something funny I did a while back. He was all stressed out about something and I thought it was hilarious. But I had grabbed his hand and did this to try and calm him down. To make fun of how ridiculous he was being.

After I'd squeezed his hand the second time, he let out a breath in a slight chuckle. One of those 'still concerned but I'm glad you're okay' kinda things. I stopped coughing and now was just heaving for breath. I closed my eyes and just focused on breathing. Once I thought I was good, I moved to stand. Daredevil instantly stood, helping me up.

Once I was standing, I looked around. The ninjas were all passed out on the ground. "Thanks," I croaked, looking back at him. My voice sounded terrible. "How'd you do that?"

"Stick," he said.

"He's here?"

He simply nodded. I opened my mouth to speak when he looked the other way, listening. "Are you okay?" he looked back at me.

"I'm seeing this through, if that's what you mean," I replied. He nodded and then led the way. I picked up a sword and followed. A bow's going to do nothing against these guys. And it sounds like we're in the heart of it. This whole mess with The Hand. About ten minutes later, we turned down a long hallway. From what I could see, it opened up into an open room.

We made our way done it as I started hearing voices. Not the creepy kind in my head, but actual voices. Mainly it was Japanese. I'm rusty, but it didn't sound good. It sounded like they were torturing Stick, but I couldn't tell why. No one was saying what they wanted. Or maybe they did and it was one of the words I forgot. Could be either.

Daredevil kept going forward and I turned left into a doorway. It seemed to wrap around the backside of the room, spitting me out on the opposite side from where we were. But I finally saw Stick. He was tied to a chair in the middle of the room, two Japanese looking men standing over him with a ninja not too far behind them. From what I could see his face looked bloody. "Ready when you are," I whispered.

It was intended for Daredevil, but I'm sure Stick heard it, too. The men said a few more things in Japanese. Then Stick started laughing. "The only thing," he said, "going to crack tonight is your skull." Daredevil jumped out of somewhere and took on the ninja. The man who was doing the torturing stepped away from Stick and moved to fight Daredevil.

The head dude looked like he was about to slit Stick's throat. I ran up to the guy, taking him by surprise. I grabbed a fist full of his hair and then faced him toward the way I came. I put the sword to his throat. Just before I moved to cut it, he threw an elbow back and got me in the chest. The hit was not what I needed after just almost dying of strangulation. The air left my lungs, but I ignored it. I tried to keep it together, following through and slitting his throat without hesitation.

Then I put my foot on his back and pushed him away. He stumbled a few feet before slamming into the wall and then hitting the ground, blood pouring from his throat. I doubled over, putting my hands on my knees to steady me. I went into a coughing fit. My airway felt like it was trying to close again. I might want to get that checked out once we're done here.

"That doesn't sound too good," Stick said, almost in a mocking way. "Guess you meant what you said back there about killing." I coughed a few more times and then spit out a wad of blood. My throat was raw from all the coughing.

"Yeah," I said, standing. I sounded more painful than I felt. "But, I am not the one turning teenagers into killers," I said with as much spit as I could muster. He offered a closed mouth smile. "True," he nodded. I rolled my eyes as Daredevil walked up. He went to Stick and tried to get his binds undone. He looked up at me.

I coughed twice more, the need to cough refusing to go away. I twisted to the side and spit out more blood. I looked back at him and he had Stick's wrists undone. "I'll live," I said. He nodded and then went back to Stick. Stick pulled out all of the things they had shoved up under his figure nails. The one thing that makes me squirm. I shook it off and then looked around the room.

"You okay?" Daredevil asked.

"I've been better," Stick replied. I looked back at them, just as Daredevil was helping him to his feet. "You did good kid," Stick said, hugging him. Not something I ever thought I'd see….but, whatever.

"I just did what you told me to." Stick must've said something I couldn't hear, because Daredevil smiled. He nodded and moved to prop him on his side. "Come on, old man. Let's get you out of here." They got situated as I glanced around again. The urge to cough was still there, begging me to give into it. My eyes stopped across the room, landing on Elektra. She was walking in, sai in hand. She stopped by the stairs and stared at us.

"Hello, boys," she said and we all froze. She pointed a sai at me. "And whatever you are." I grinned at the subtle jab. My heart rate spiked when I saw her, the jump in adrenaline causing me to cough. I quickly reined it back in. She smiled at me. Then she looked at the boys. "Do you remember when we met? You told me you'd never abandon me."

Really? She's still stuck on this? She chuckled. "It's funny. For the life of me, I can't remember being so naïve I'd believe you. But I did." She must be talking to Stick. "And now here we are."

"Elektra," Daredevil said. I sighed in annoyance and rolled my eyes. She glared at me with evil eyes.

"Why don't you two scurry out of here and let me do what I came here to do." And with the flicked of her wrist she sent a sai my way. I brought the sword in front of me at a slight angle and it crashed into the sai. "Impressive," she said. But I went into another coughing fit. In order to stop the sai, I slipped holding back the cough. "Oh," she mocked. "Look at that, Matthew. Now you have two injured friends."

I bent over again, coughing. But this time I went down to one knee. "Angel," I heard Daredevil say. I coughed a few more times before I got out an "I'm fine." He knew it wasn't true but I didn't care. I felt blood dripping out of my mouth, and even worse, I could taste it. I ran the back of my wrist across my mouth as I stood on shaky legs.

Daredevil was now standing in between her and Stick. "I told you I'm not going to let you kill him."

"And I told you too bad," she said.

"You let her track you," Stick said. If that's true, I'm going to be really mad. But something tells me that Elektra would've found him anyway.

"She's not going to hurt you, Stick," Daredevil said.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Look at that," she mocked. Her standard level. She's always either threatening someone or making fun of them. "After all of that, and you're still a disappointment."

"Wow," I said. "And I thought I had daddy issues." I looked at her. "You need you let it go. Move on."

"Like you'll let go of what happened to your sister?" she asked.

"Sister-in-law," I corrected. "And, you're _not_ dead yet, despite how much I want you to be. So, I'd say I'm making progress."

"Well, he's not going anywhere," she pointed at Stick.

"Neither are you, child," Stick said. "They've got you right where they want you."

"It is painful, raising children," a male voice said. And before I even saw his ugly face, I knew it was Nobu. "We spend our lives teaching them to be strong. To be independent. But we realize that once we have achieved that, they are no longer in our control." Nobu walked up to us until he was about five feet from Elektra, before he stopped. When he did, about ten armed ninjas gathered behind him.

"Nobu," Daredevil said.

"Tell them," he said. "Tell them why we are all here tonight. You…the loyal one…the angel…and it." His eyes landed on Elektra at that last part. Uh…why'd he call her 'it'? I know she has problems, but she's still a human being. Right?

"Nobu, you let these three go and you can have me."

I rolled my eyes. Over my dead body. I'm not leaving him again and he knows that. "I need it," Nobu said, looking to Elektra.

"Call me 'it' again and I'll cut you in half," she said.

"You are right, Elektra. You are not a girl anymore. But now, seeing you fight, seeing you with the man who saved your life…I'd know you anywhere. Do you know who we are?"

"You call yourselves The Hand."

"Do you know who we serve?"

"Yeah. Some mythical thing called the Black Sky," she said, getting annoyed with the questions. And so was I. I have a hunch where this is going. The Black Sky is what they called that boy at the docks that Nobu wanted. The one Stick killed so that Nobu _couldn't_ have him. It was supposed to be some terrible weapon. So, how can you serve a weapon?

"Well, that's just great," I said and all eyes were on me. "You're saying…she's a Black Sky?" I pointed at Elektra, still in mild disbelief of the whole thing. Nobu stepped forward. "That is correct," he said. "Our greatest living weapon." Elektra had her sai point at Nobu.

He pulled out his sword and I tightened my grip on mine. But he held it out in front of him, placing the tip on the back of his other hand and then kneeling. "Elektra," Daredevil said. "Do not listen to him, alright? It's a trick." Yeah, no it's not. "Another allusion, another game, he wants something from you."

She turned around, lowering the sai, and looked at Stick. "You told me I was out of control." Here we go.

"They don't get to tell you what you are," Daredevil said.

"But you said the same thing."

"But I was wrong. No one gets to tell you."

"But it makes sense, right?" she asked him but glanced at me. She was looking for someone to agree with her. To justify it, to say it was okay. She was looking for a reason as to why her life has happened the way it did. She turned around and looked down at Nobu.

"No. Only if you let it," Daredevil said. She finally reached down and grabbed the handle of the sword Nobu was holding. Nobu stood and stepped back. Elektra spun around and pointed the sword at Stick. "You knew," she said, "all along."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I did."

"That's why they hated me. That's why everyone eventually does."

"Elektra, you still have a choice, the woman I know is still in there," Daredevil said.

"Is she?"

"You are home now," Nobu said. Well, this can't be good. Elektra leading The Hand. Begin used as their 'weapon'. Not good. He then spoke in Japanese. The one sentence I wish I didn't understand. He said, "We live and die to serve you, Black Sky." Then he and all the ninjas bowed, each one laying down their sword. Ten bucks says this is going to go straight to her head.

"If what they say is true," she said turning to face us, "I started it as a child. With the Chaste. I committed it to memory, so I could fight it one day. But there's no fighting it anymore," she looked down at the sword, "The Black Sky's destiny."

"No, Elektra!" Daredevil said, on the verge of freaking out.

"Elektra," I said.

She turned around. "Leave me."

Daredevil said, "I'm not going to leave you." At the same time I said, "No." Leaving her with Nobu is a terrible idea.

"Leave!" She thrust her sword toward Daredevil, stopping with the tip almost touching his neck. He didn't even flinch. "I pretended my whole life. I tried. I tried to control this inside me. Maybe I don't have to anymore. Maybe this is my chance."

"To what? To be loved?"

"Yes!"

"Then don't let me get in your way." He started walking forward. What are you doing? She has a sword to your throat! Ugh, men. He got within three feet of her before stopping. "I am an enemy of The Hand. So kill me." She hesitated, closing her eyes. She wasn't going to. Daredevil sprang to life, taking the sword from her and then held her against him while he put the sword to her throat.

The ninjas grabbed their swords and then quickly surrounded them in a circle, clearly ready to kill him. Stick and I took a few steps back, watching. I stepped closer to Stick, waiting to see what Daredevil's next move was. Right now, we have no chance of getting out of here.

"It's too late," Elektra said. "Let me go."

"You can get even, try to kill us, and prove him right. Or you could save Stick, and prove him wrong," Daredevil said. Us against a bunch of ninjas…we might make it. Us against Nobu? No way. Not a snowball's chance in Hell. I glanced down at Stick's hand. He was holding one of those things they shoved under his nails. He looked at me and whispered, "You ready, kid?"

I ginned, twirling the sword in my hand. "Always," I whispered. A second later, he sprung forward, jabbing the stick into a ninja's neck. He hit the ground as the place came to life. I drove my sword through the ninja in front of me. I yanked the sword out as Elektra ran past me, wrapping her arms around Stick and taking him with her. I looked back at the fight just in time to catch a sword headed my way. I brought mine up and paired it, holding it an inch from my face.

"Go with them," I heard Daredevil say in my ear piece. I said I'd never leave him again. I drove my leg up between the ninja's, giving me the leverage I needed. He dropped to his knees and then I slammed the pummel on my sword into his temple. "I mean it." Yeah, I know you do. I growled/grunted before turning and running after Stick and Elektra.

I caught up to them just as she was driving her sai into a ninja's neck. Another one was being a sword down on her. I caught his sword with mine and then kicked him in the chest. He stumbled back as I spun, bringing the sword around low, slicing deep into his stomach. His guts spilled out as he hit the ground. But I quickly moved onto the next one.

I drove my sword back and up, almost close enough to touch my suit, and into a ninja behind me. I heard it pierce his skin and then I yanked it out. I looked over at the other. A ninja was kneel before Elektra and she stabbed him in the neck. The guy behind me collapsed as she looked at me. I nodded and she nodded back.

I started walking toward her as she went to Stick's side. She wrapped her arm around him again, to help him walk. I tossed my sword into my left hand, walking up to his left side, and did the same. We walked as fast as we could down the tunnel. I was just assuming Elektra knew where she was going. I don't.

I don't know how long we walked, but it didn't seem long enough. It seemed like we couldn't possibly get far enough away from them. But we stopped when Stick couldn't go any farther. He leaned against the wall and then slid to the ground. Elektra sighed, passing. But I needed a break, too. I coughed a few times and then heaved for a breath. I sighed. Elektra was staring at me. I turned to the side and spit out a wade of saliva and blood. Then I looked back at her. "What?"

She rolled her eyes and kept passing. After a minute she stopped and looked down at Stick. "Still want to kill me?"

Stick chuckled. "Yeah. But he'd be mad," he jutted a thumb back the way we came.

"I just saved your butt…and you're worried about what _he_ thinks?"

"Oh, give it a break, will ya?" I said. She looked up at me. "How long are you going to keep up this pour me act? You wanna know why 'no one' likes you and why you're 'always' the outcast? It's cause you care too much about what people think of you. Therefore, you try too hard to make them want you and only end up pushing them away."

"Really?" she scoffed, unbelieving. "Why are _you_ even here?"

"Because of Matt, idiot. Because, though you've messed up everything we had together, I'm seeing this through. This thing with The Hand, with you."

"He doesn't need a babysitter."

"No, but clearly you do. Why do you think I'm here instead of back there with him?!" I pointed down the tunnel. I coughed and then ran the back of my wrist across my mouth. I sighed and put a hand on my hip. I paced slightly, before stopping and looking at her. "I don't trust you. Either of you." I looked between them. "But strangely enough, and for a reason I'll never understand…you both mean something to Matt. Even after all the junk you two have put him through, he still cares about you.

"So much so that he's risking his life to protect you two, not only from The Hand, but each other." I sighed in frustration. I pointed at Elektra, "You're the love who broke his heart," then Stick, "and you're the sub in dad who ripped him off. And yet…he came here to save _both_ of you."

"I don't need to be saved," Elektra said.

"Yeah, right. You almost went off with a league of ninjas, just for funzzies. And, you wanted to kill this guy," I pointed at Stick, "because he tried to kill you, which-" I looked at Stick "-I totally understand now." He smirked as I turned back to Elektra. "Stop hiding behind the 'he said's' and the 'she did's'. You're a part of the reason why Mary's dead, and I've saved you how many times now? Stick tried to kill you, get over it. You claim no one loves you, Matt still does. Meaning, while you thought you were alone…had you pulled your head out of your butt, you would've seen you weren't.

"Stop being the person you think you need to be to make people love you…and start being the person Matt _thinks_ is worth saving." I sighed. "I don't see what's so special about you, Black Sky or not, yet a blind man does. Please…complain some more." I looked down the way we'd come. I thought I heard something. I turned back. "If it weren't for Matt, I would've killed you by now." She looked into my eyes. I couldn't read her expression, and I didn't care to try. We need to go.


	34. The Broken Girl

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I gargled warm salt water a few times, after taking probably passed the legal limit of painkillers. I'd like something stronger, like some kind of alcoholic beverage, but that'd only make my throat feel worse. I spit out the mouthful I had into the kitchen sink. Matt and Stick had been arguing for, like, twenty minutes. I don't know, I tuned them out. I'm sick of their drama.

I was still dressed as Angel, just minus the mask. Same as Matt. I stood and whipped my bottom lip. At least I got the taste of blood out of my mouth. I sighed and then tossed the paper towel in the trash. I pour out the glass of salt water as Matt walked into the kitchen. "You okay?"

I sat the glass down and nodded. Talking was not fun. _Very_ not fun. This is the worst sore throat I've ever had. It's like someone took a razor and went to town on my throat. I swallowed, cringing. "Take a deep breath," he said. "I want to listen to your lungs." I rolled my eyes, but did as he said. I took a deep breath, slowly letting it out. I did that twice, watching him the whole time.

He nodded and looked away. "Thank you." I nodded. "No, for all of it." He sighed. "You didn't have to come. You…almost died."

I shrugged, then swallowed. "Yeah-" I stopped and cringed. He opened his mouth to protest and I held up a finger. He stopped, closing his mouth. I swallowed, rubbing my throat. "And I'd do it again," it came out a strangled whisper. He cocked his head, listening. But this time, I knew he was listening to me. "There's just something about you, Murdock, that…" I swallowed, "makes me want to die."

He smiled, knowing I was being sarcastic. "I'll remember that." I stared back at him as a slight awkward feeling crept in. Normally, if we were still together, this is the part where we'd say 'I love you' and most likely kiss. We'd talk a while longer and then head off to bed, being so exhausted that we'd pass out as soon as our heads hit the pillows. Normally…that's what we'd do.

But this isn't normal. We're not normal, anymore. This is something new. Something we've never done before, a new territory that we kind of skipped over last time. But somehow it felt wrong. It felt wrong not to touch him, not to kiss him and say 'I love you'. It felt wrong not to want him. And yet…it felt right.

After a few moments of awkward silence, he turned to leave. I inwardly sighed, my emotions caught in an unwinnable battle. I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. He stopped and turned back with a questioning look. He probably thinks I want to say something more. Which is hard because I can't just right it down or mouth the words.

But I shocked both of us when I pulled him in for a hug. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight. Probably tighter than 'just friends' would've. But we're not 'just friends'. We were once more than that, and I think part of 'us' still is. He cautiously wrapped his arms around me, probably thinking I'd go back on it any second.

But I finally felt them fully embrace me, squeezing me back. And holding him, feeling him hold me back, knowing it was nothing more than a hug after a dangerous mission…was, oddly, more satisfying than I thought it could be. It was what I needed. It was what we both needed. Someone just had to be man enough to ask for it.

We held the hug until we both wanted to let go. Secretly I think neither of us wanted to, but he had to. Life had to go on. The Hand won't stop until they have Stick and Elektra, Matt's head on a spike. The usual. When we separated I looked at him. His face had a silent 'thank you' written all over it. I nodded slightly and then we went our separate ways.

He left the kitchen and walked out into the living room. I sighed and then left the kitchen as well. But I headed for the hall leading to the front door. I stopped at the entrance to the hallway and then turned back. "I'm going home," I had to whisper it because of my throat. Those darn painkillers haven't kicked in yet. "Call me, okay?"

I specifically looked at Matt when I said that. "I will," he nodded. I turned and then left. I walked out of the building and to my car. Thankfully no one was around. I got in the driver's seat, shutting the door. I started the car and then drove to Alison's. I pulled up out front, expecting to see her car but it was gone. I sighed and cut the engine.

I sighed, letting out a long breath. The pain in my throat had only slightly gone away. Maybe I should try the alcohol after all. I pulled the visor down and then flipped open the mirror. The light turned on illuminating my face. I looked at the bags under my eyes, the scar on my face, the dried blood that ran from my hairline to my chin and the gash where it started. I looked at the light reflecting in my eyes, the white blonde hair that went where it pleased.

 _This isn't me, this is not me._ I closed my eyes. _This is not me_. And yet a small voice in the back of my head said it was. This is me, the _real_ me. It's just been so long since I've seen it. What went wrong, where I don't even recognize myself? I always knew who I was. Growing up I was the girl without a father. Then I was the girl that ran from his mistakes. The broken girl. Then I was the S.H.I.E.L.D. girl. The responsible one you didn't mess with. Then I was the new sister-in-law, the new aunt. Then I was the girl without a brother, without S.H.I.E.L.D.

Then I was the PI, the one who's got it figured out. At the same time I was the hero, the one who protects the city. Then I was the friend and the babysitter. I was the drinking buddy, the skeptic, the…the lover. But that seems like so long ago. Now I'm the mom, the 'not so good' friend, the criminal, the killer, the ex-girlfriend, the ex-PI, ex-hero even. I'm the girl with the guilt.

Take all that away…and what am I? I'm nothing without all those labels. They are who I am, each and every painful one of them. _They_ are who I am. I'm _not_ one thing. I'm _not_ one label. I am all of it. It's all me, it has been from the start. I…I just didn't want to admit it. That I _am_ broken. That I always will be.

"One day someone is going to hug you so tight, that all your broken pieces will go back together." I heard my mother's words in my head. And she was right. And I thought he did. I thought I found him. But he hugged me…and all my broken pieces just broke some more.

I exhaled and opened my eyes, looking at my reflection. "They are who I am," I said it as loud as I could, which wasn't very loud. I closed my eyes. "They are who I am. Not Matt, not Angel, not even Dani. I am Elizabeth Barton." I opened my eyes and looked into mine. "I am 'the broken girl'. It's who I am and I can't change it. So why do I keep trying?"

I kept staring at myself, dissatisfied when I didn't reply. I exhaled, closing my eyes. "Okay. My name is Danielle Dylan. I am broken, and that's okay." I opened my eyes. "Because I am still _me_. Don't ever forget that." I stared at myself a second longer, before flipping the visor closed. I promptly exited the car and then walked to the café.

It might sound stupid, but I needed that. I needed to have a talk with myself. Now maybe…maybe I can move past all of this. Move past Hell's Kitchen. This has been the source of all of my pain, starting the day I was born. Maybe it's time to close this chapter.

I opened the front door of the café and walked inside. It was unlocked, which made me go on high alert. I closed the door behind me, scanning the room. I heard metal clanging and whipped my head in that direction. I expected to see Rueben. But I saw nothing. The sound came from behind the counter, in the kitchen.

I walked around the counter and then cautiously walked through the door way. The whole place was dark, except this one light. It only lit up a few things, emitting in an odd way on the floor. I looked down at it and then turned right, the direction the light was coming from. I walked around a counter top, seeing the fridge door was wide open. I saw a pair of shoes on the floor not far from it. The closer I got, I saw legs to those shoes and then, ultimately, the owner of them.

Alison sat on the ground, leaning into the cupboard. She held a gallon tub of, what I'm assuming is, mint chocolate chip ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. I walked closer, tapping the ice cream lid with my foot which was a good three feet away from her. I slid the lid toward her and she jumped. She looked up at me with wild eyes, shielding the ice cream.

She was acting like I just walked in on her in the shower. I sighed and rolled my eyes. She looked at me more closely and I saw the flash of recognition in her eyes. She lowered the tub into her lap, staring down at it. From what I could see it was half empty. I thought it was full this morning?

A million questions and sarcastic comments rushed through my head. I could take a picture of this and then spend the next ten years giving it a new tagline each day. She glanced up at me, then back at the ice cream. She looked up at me and held the stare. She looked into my eyes. The light from the fridge was casting an odd shadow across her face, but I could still tell that something was wrong.

Without a word said by either of us, she started crying. Now I was really confused. "Alison," I croaked. This time my voice was twice as loud as before, but still quiet. I got down on my knees, removed the ice cream from her lap and then plucked the spoon from her grasp. I tossed it in the bucket and then set it aside.

As soon as I twisted back to see her, she lunged at me. She wrapped her arms around me and wasn't planning on letting go. She was now in a full sob that was racking her whole body. I returned the hug and rubbed my hand on her back. Since I have no idea what's causing this, I just need to act like I do. I found that's the best strategy when it comes to crying women.

I turned just enough to put all my weight on my right knee. I then brought up my left leg and was able to use it to tap the fridge door closed. This place was starting to turn into an iceberg. It was a balancing act, but I managed to complete the mission without letting go of Alison or falling over. She cried, and cried, and cried some more.

It felt like I was holding her forever. And, no offense to her, but my legs were starting to cramp and my shirt _and_ bra were both soaked with tears. "Alison." I finally said enough was enough and carefully unlatched her from my shirt. I carefully sat her back, holding onto her hands. She was a mess.

I glanced around the kitchen. I saw what I needed and then grabbed it. I handed Alison the dish cloth and she gladly took it. She wiped at her eyes, and they were dry for a second. Like, literally. She looked down at the towel and then a fresh set of tears burst out. I sighed. "Alison. Alison, look at me."

She sniffled and slowly brought her eyes up to mine. I nodded. "Okay. Now I want you to tell me what happened," I spoke as softly as possible. She didn't seem to notice that I sounded like a sixty year old chain smoker. She looked down at my hand still holding hers.

"Tonight," she said. "Frank and I…we…and she…" She sniffled. "And Karen…" it came out more like a screech. She instantly went back to crying, sobbing. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Okay," I huffed. I looked back at her. "Alison." She kept crying. "Alison!" I said it more forcefully, getting her attention. She looked at me and I felt the urge to cough. I tried to speak, but had to cough instead. I coughed a few times and then looked back at her. "Alison, where's Frank?"

"He," she sniffled, "he took my car…went back to get the weapons…take them to your place."

"Oh, that's nice," I sighed. "What weapons?"

"The one's we found…at the Colonel's house."

"Colonel? What Colonel?"

Her eyes flicked up and met mine. "The Blacksmith," she said. "He's the Blacksmith." That wasn't what I asked, but okay. So they found the Blacksmith. She looked down. "He knew Frank."

"Wait. You mean his old Colonel? The one who testified in court?" as I spoke the words she was nodding. I sat back, getting off my legs. Huh. Well…I didn't see that one coming. "Okay," I said. "How does Karen play into this?" Her eyes shot back to me, this time wild. She was that way for a split second before she started to cry again. "No. Alison, I need to know."

But it didn't matter. She was gone. Way too far gone. I sighed and patted her shoulder. I stood and then grabbed her hands. I pulled her to her feet, still sobbing. I picked up the ice cream and stuck it back where it belonged. Then I walked back up to Alison. I walked straight to her and grabbed her waist. I hefted her over my shoulder and then started walking.

I headed out of the kitchen and then to the stairs. I walked up those and then went to her room. I walked to the bed and then bent down so her butt hit the mattress. Then I pulled the rest of her off of me and stood. She was still crying. The covers were already pulled back like she was here at one point. I sighed.

I bent down and pulled off her shoes. I tossed them to the side and then stood. "Why don't you sleep it off, Ally?" I put my hands on her shoulders and then gently pushed her back into the bed. She lay back, giving into it. I grabbed her legs and swung them onto the bed. She rolled onto her side, facing away from me. I pulled the covers up over her, sighing with exhaustion.

She's not going to stop crying until she's good and ready. I left the room and walked to the bathroom. I grabbed the box of tissue and then came back. I sat it on the bed within reaching distance. Then I turned and left. I closed the door behind me and then headed to the couch. I plopped down, pulling out my phone.

I dialed Alison's cell phone and then listened to it ring. After the third ring, he picked up. "Yeah."

"What on earth happened?" I half shrieked, half croaked. There was a pause.

"Who is this?"

"It's Dani!" I sighed. "A ninja tried to kill me and now my throat's messed up!" Another long pause. "Come on, Picasso!" When I tried to scream, I just ended up sounding like an angry chipmunk. It was hard not to laugh at myself.

"What do you want?" he finally said. For a second I thought he hung up.

"To know what's going on! I come home and find Alison curled up on the kitchen floor with a tub of ice cream! Then she started sobbing, uncontrollably. I am literally soaked down to my bra! And, she's crying so hard she can't even tell me why she's crying. All I got out of her was that it has something to do with you, Karen, and the Blacksmith. Care to elaborate?"

I heard him sigh heavily. "Where is she?"

I sighed. "Can't people just answer my questions?" It came out a whine. The only normal sounding thing yet. Now I was on the verge of a mental break down. "Look. She's in bed. Where I put her! Answer the question, what happened?" The question was met with another long sigh, and then another pause. I squeezed the phone really hard.

I was on the verge of throwing it across the room and taking joy in watching it shatter against the wall. I readjusted the phone. " _Francis_ Castle," I said through clenched teeth.

"Karen's dead," he said. I nearly dropped the phone. "Alison and I, we were staking out the Blacksmith's house when she showed up. She went inside his house. Alison went in after her, said if she didn't he'd kill her. And he killed her anyway. I wasn't in there, I don't know more than that."

I sat back, taking it all in. This can't be happening. But it explains Alison's melt down. She thought she could save Karen and she ended up dying. How can she be dead? My brain couldn't grasp the idea. With most deaths, I can think of the victims as strangers, even the ones I know. And it's saved me a lot of heart ache. But, this one…I can't.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

" _A lot of things have happened in New York. This city has seen more than its fair share of heartache. Sisters lost brothers, husbands lost wives, children were orphaned. But there were heroes to save us, right? We had more than one. Now close your eyes. Can you do that for me? Good. Imagine being the hero of this story. The hero gets the girl, the hero saves the city, the hero gets a happy ending, right? Wrong. This hero saved the city. This hero got the girl. But there are no happy endings. Not for him_."

I sighed, sitting back in my chair. Well, if you want to get technical about it, it's Ben's. Sitting in his office, using his computer, writing about things he should've written about. I scrubbed my hand over my face. What am I doing? This is ridiculous. I'm truly passed the point of no return. Oh shut up, Alison. Just write the stupid story. I groaned and sat upright, scooting my chair toward the desk an inch.

" _Lieutenant Frank Castle was more than just a soldier. He was a father. He was a husband. He was just like anyone else in Manhattan. Your average everyday citizen in a little white house with a picket fence living that all-too elusive American Dream, Frank Castle was a hero for all intents and purposes. After what would be his final tour in the military, he came home to his family back in the states. Not a day had passed. It was smiles, hugs, kisses.  
The very day after he'd arrived back in New York City, Frank Castle and his family went to Central Park. It's what hundreds of people do every day. The park gets a large amount of foot traffic among its many guests, so nothing could go unheard of happening there, right? Wrong again. In the blink of an eye, those smiles, hugs, and kisses were gone forever. The local drug leaders had organized a meet nearby in the park on the same day. The probably high dealers grew restless when one party didn't show, and they opened fire on each other.  
But the bullets didn't just hit their fellow marketers. It also hit the average Joe, passerby's, and innocent families anywhere in range. Not just them, though. Frank's wife, son, and daughter were all killed in the massacre. This wasn't on the news, you say. I didn't read in it the paper. And that's right, you didn't see it anywhere.  
Then how do I know? I'm just a girl that owns a Café. I know because I looked into the eyes of a man that lost everything that day. I heard it straight from the man that went through it and lived. Frank Castle didn't get out unscathed either. He was shot in the head at close range. Well, then he must be crazy, right? One more wrong assumption to add to the list. No, he's not crazy. You don't truly know what someone is going through unless you've gone through the same thing. I can't say that I have. Or that half the people in this city have. But I know what it's like to be a parent. Your kids become your world, your very purpose for everything you do."_

I jolted, sending a line of strangled letters across the screen. Ellison peered in the door and I sighed. "Did you jump _again_?" he asked, not surprised. "What did I tell you about decaf?" I slumped back in my chair and nodded a little, blowing air through my lips. Ellison took a step inside and closed the door behind him. "How's, uh…how's the story coming?" he asked, lightheartedly.

I glanced down at the screen. "Very depressingly."

"That's good," he crossed his arms, and I raised an eyebrow. "If _you're_ depressed writing it, just think of the emotions it'll play to in your readers." I saw his point. But it didn't change my mood. It wasn't just this story making me saddened. It was Karen. She should be here. No matter how annoyed she made me, she always had her heart in the right place. I looked up at the stupid Christmas lights pinned to the window frame. "Can you please take those down?"

Ellison looked at them, and then turned to me. "Oh, come on, Fletcher, it's almost _Christmas_. You know, ho ho ho?"

"Yeah, and I'm going to be spending it very…very alone. So, just…" I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "Just take them down."

"I'm really sorry, Alison. I didn't even think about your boy." He shook his head, mostly at himself it seemed, and walked over near the door. He bent and yanked the plug-in out of the wall. The lights around the window instantly went out. He stood upright with a sigh and walked back over to the front of the desk. "You know, you don't have to be alone," he reminded.

I nodded, tiredly. "I know. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. No, seriously, don't. The gossipers around here will start to think I actually like you, so…" He turned a little toward the door, waving a hand to gesture at the people walking by the window. "They'll probably start one of those stupid hash tags or something." I chuckled at his humor. When I first started working at the Bulletin, Ellison couldn't stand me. He claimed that I was _too_ upbeat and eager to work.

Of course, I think that's what Ben _liked_ about me. I've probably grown on Ellison at least a little bit. But he still wants to keep up his annoyed-with-Fletcher-image. "I know this might not be the most professional thing to ask, but," I inwardly braced myself as Ellison sat to the left, a few feet from the desk. "Was whatever you thought you saw in Frank Castle…worth all of this?"

I raised an eyebrow. He was right; it wasn't the most professional thing to ask. But Ellison was famous for getting into his employees' personal lives. I have no idea why he was even interested. I sat up in my chair, leaning forward to rest my crossed forearms on the desk. I took in a breath, "Yeah…I think it was."

"Why?" he inquired, curiously. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

"Well, uh…because it was something I needed. I needed something that was real. Something…something that felt like forever. But I probably just sound crazy now, right?"

He shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "You sound like you're still in love. That's good, it'll make for a better article. But, Alison…I only ask because, well, put frankly, you seem different. I'm pretty sure it's in a good way but then again I could be mistaken. So I'll put my foot out of my mouth and say I'm glad you're back." I paused, thinking. Was I back? Did I miss journalism enough to stay? I wasn't too sure yet.

Ellison stood with a sigh and started for the door. "Well, I'll quit bugging you," he pulled open the door and paused in the doorway, turning around to see me. "Get cracking on that front pager. I want it on my desk by Monday morning." I gave a mock salute and he nodded, closing the behind him. And once again, silence settled across the small office. I looked down at the screen. Only a few hundred words. I groaned. I need more. A lot more.

I pulled my chair as close to the desk as I could get it and started typing. I picked up where I left off, but I had a new train of thought to work with. This article was important to me. But it was also an emotional piece about a tragedy that was overlooked. I can do this is my sleep.

" _So, imagine being the hero. You almost have your happy ending. And then before the credits can roll, before you can ride off into the sunset, everything you have ever loved disappears right in front of you and there's no way you can stop it. And the people you fought so hard to save won't help you_."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

"Man, I don't know about this," Potter said. I smirked. He was measuring Elektra. Matt's great new idea was get her some better protection than what she had. "I made all this stuff to keep Betsy safe, not just…give it away." I smiled and crossed my arms, looking to Daredevil.

"You'll get it back, Melvin," he said.

"Without a scratch," Elektra added. "Promise." I rolled my eyes.

Potter sighed. "If you say so." He wrapped the tape measure around his neck and then walked over to one of his shelves. Elektra started wondering, so my focus turned to her. "Expecting trouble?"

"Always," I said.

"That figures. Well, it's a good thing you've got extra company."

I looked at Elektra as she looked at me. "You have no idea."

"Aw, before I forget." He turned and vanished into the next room. Elektra went back to snooping around. Potter reappeared a minute later. He was holding a long rectangular box. "These are you for," he walked to Daredevil, setting the box next to him on the table. "Merry Christmas, huh?" He then moved to opened it.

"What is it?"

"Billy Club," Potter pulled the weapon out of the case and held it in front of him. My eyes drifted to Elektra. A kid in a candy store. She was near the bag, putting her grubby hands on pieces of fabric. I sighed. "Like the cops use only a million times cooler. It's my own design. Special steel fiber composite cable. Darn near indestructible. Check it out," he lit up, showing off his new toy.

I smiled and tuned them out. No one else knows yet that Karen's dead. Meaning Matt. The news should break tonight, I would think. I'm going to let him find out that way. I don't know how to tell him. I mean, Karen was Nelson and Murdock's first case. The fact that she's gone…I don't know.

Karen's also what brought the Angel and the Devil together. I had followed The Mask, that night, who was following her. Someone broke into Karen's apartment and tried to kill her. She had some files that they didn't want getting out to the public. They'd already framed her for a coworker's death, but that wasn't good enough. When I got to the apartment, the fight had already started. The two were fighting and eventually went out the window. Fell two stories. Good times.

I helped him stop the guy and then disappeared. Then the next day, I get a call from Foggy. I never thought I'd speak to him again. And before I knew it I was on my way to Nelson and Murdock. That's where I saw Foggy again, recognized Karen from the night before. But I met Matt and Alison that day. Two people who have changed my life in so many ways. And it all started with Karen.

The Billy Club shot in front of me and knocked a can of a shelf, breaking me from my thoughts. It zipped back on its metal string to its base. "Where's mine?" Elektra asked.

"It's a prototype. I only made one-"

"Don't mind her," Daredevil said to Potter. I smiled. I sighed and then walked around, pretending to look at stuff. I was board and wanted to go home. "Melvin, I…I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," he said. "I mean, the papers might not report it, but we in Hell's Kitchen know who's really looking out for us." I smiled at his words, looking at some of his tools. "It's yours, man." I turned around and walked back over, stopping next to Elektra. She was very put out. Good. "I have something for you," Potter pointed at me.

I was slightly shocked. "Me?"

"Yeah." He vanished again and then came back with a duffle bag. "A friend of yours gave me the idea. I mean, I was already thinking of something like this, but his ideas really made it."

"Uh…" I glanced at Daredevil. He looked just as clueless. Potter sat the bag on the table. "Melvin, what friend?"

"Another hero," he said it like it was nothing. "He had a bow. Calls himself…Hawkeye. He said he was family." And then it clicked. I told Clint who we'd gotten our suits from, but never where. He must've figured that part out on his own. "His suit could use some work, though."

"I'll pass it along," I smiled. "When did he come by?"

"A few days ago." Potter unzipped the bag and then stopped. He turned to face me. "I'm sorry about…about Mary." I was slightly caught off guard. "After hearing about what happened and how, and with some help from your friend, we made you something I think will help. He said what I was thinking might happen. You're having problems using your bow," it was more a statement than a question.

"Yeah..?" I wasn't sure where this was going. He turned to the bag and then pulled out a bright blue rectangle. I instantly recognized it as a folded down bow. It looked about six inches long, three inched shorter that mine. He turned it on its side and pointed. "All you do is push this button," he said. He pushed the button and the bow expanded.

It folded out to the same size as mine. But this one was sleeker. All of the arms, the handle, it was all a fraction of the width of mine. The blue color looked like the shade of a mustang. Definitely an upgrade from mine. And there was no bulky sight to get in the way. But as good as it was, I deep down it wouldn't change anything. A bow is a bow.

"Now, I know what you're thinking," he said. "This bow is much different. It's made of the same indestructible stuff as his Billy Club. The string can't be cut and will never need replaced. Half the weight, twice as strong." I raised an eyebrow, waiting for more. "But the best part," he positioned the bow in his hand and then tried to pull back the string. It didn't budge. "I built the finger print scanner Hawkeye gave me into the handle. The only person who can pull this baby back…is you."

He walked up to me and held it out. I was speechless. "Now no one can ever use it to hurt someone you care about, again," he said. I looked at the bow in his hands and then up at him. Tears stung my eyes. I looked back down at the bow. I hesitantly reached out for it. I picked it up, feeling the full weight of it. Which wasn't much. Maybe a pound.

I put it in my left hand, gripping the handle. My hand slid into place, just under the rest. The handle glowed neon blue under my finger tips. I held it up and pulled back the string. It felt easy, light. "What's the pull?" I asked.

He smiled. "Seventy."

I put the string back and then lowered the bow. I looked at him in disbelief. "It feels like thirty."

"I know," he grinned. "That'll really save your shoulders. Make it easier to shoot if you're injured, too." I stared at him, then looked down at the bow. I pressed the button on the side and it folded down by itself. Then it was just a six by three inch rectangle in my hand. I didn't know what to say. So I did what we both weren't expecting.

I reached up and hugged him. He was totally taken off guard by it. But he returned the hug. "Thank you," I said, pulling back. He just simply nodded.


	35. Chase

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I pushed the front door open and walked in. A large pile of papers was stacked up behind the door. I sighed and glanced around. The house was dark. I'm sure the electricity doesn't even work. I closed the door, sure to let it make some noise. I put my hands in my coat pockets to warm them. I glanced at the staircase before heading left.

I walked through the door way to the living room and the barrel of a cold hand gun pressed into my forehead. "Good," I said. "You're home." Frank lowered the gun with a sigh of annoyance. He quickly returned the gun to his belt.

"Go home."

"You really think I came all this way for you to tell me to 'go home'?" I asked. He glared at me. His eyes softened and then he turned away, taking a few steps. "Whoa, what was that?"

"What?"

"That look. What was that for?" He casually ignored the question. His favorite thing to do beside kill people. I sighed, glancing around. "Alison's better, thanks for asking. She went to the Bulletin-"

"I don't want to know."

I stopped and stared at him. "You're leaving, aren't you?" I asked. He glanced at me with guilty eyes. "So you completed your mission. That's all you ever cared about? Then what was Alison?"

" _Don't_."

"Why, because you know I'm right?" I pointed a hand at myself for emphasis. "Was any of it even real?"

His head whipped my way. He stared at me with evil eyes. He sighed heavily through his nose. "Yes. All of it."

"That girl's given everything to you and you want to leave it behind?"

"I have to. Yes, I killed the Blacksmith. But it doesn't end there," he said. "There's always someone who needs punished."

"Like who?" I scoffed.

"Like Ward." I froze. I stared at him and he knew he'd got me. "And I want to help you find him."

I was speechless, and when I did talk it had no life to it. "Why?" I was incredibly confused. I don't understand why he'd want Ward. He looked at me, then glanced around. Finally he faced me, looking into my eyes. "Mary was a good person. She didn't deserve to die. She kept things secret when I started seeing Alison. She's the one who gave me the keys to that room at your place," he said. "I was always a normal person to her. I could see it in her eyes, you know? She knew what I'd done," he shook his head, "what I was doing."

The corner of his mouth went up in a grin. "She knew I'd shot you and she didn't care. She didn't care about any of it. She even kept her kid around when I was there, no need to keep her safe from me. All she ever wanted was for me and Alison to be together." He sighed. "If only she knew what that's cost."

He looked at me. "But also to repay you. For everything you've done for me, for Alison, for Chase. The hope of catching my family's killer is what got me to where I am. And you gave me that. I know the Blacksmith wasn't at the docks, but that lead me to him in the end. As far as I'm concerned, you kept your word. You helped me find my family's killer. And for that…I'm going to help you find the man who killed yours."

I nodded, thinking. I let out a long breath. "If you leave," I said, his eyes flicking up to mine, "and you do this…she'll find you. Alison will follow you wherever you go."

"I know," he sighed.

"Unless…" I thought a second.

"What?"

"Okay, so…some think you're dead and the rest want a body."

"So?"

"So, why don't we give them one?" I said. He raised an eyebrow just as a flash of 'you're crazy' was on his face. "Just hear me out." He nodded. My brain went nuts trying to form a plan. "Okay, so. We fake your death, but this time everyone will _know_ you are dead. EVERYONE. Meaning Alison, too." I saw the look of protest and talked faster. "If she thinks you're dead she won't be looking for you. She'll be safe and out of harm's way while you…and I…find Ward."

He didn't say anything. All he did was stare at the floor. I didn't try to rush him. He needed to make this decision on his own. I tucked my hands deeper into my pockets, a shiver running down my spine. This place had a crazy draft. I glanced around the room, waiting. I looked at the few pictures I could see.

"Okay." I looked at Frank to make sure I heard right. His eyes shot back and forth across the room before meeting mine. "Now how do we do it?"

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My hands pulled yet another tied trash bag tight and I stood upright, exhaling. So far I'd cleaned up four bags of glass and broken pieces of my upstairs. How many more were going to be up there, I had no idea. But I was about to find out. I turned and started for the stairs. A sharp pain up my right calf stopped me after three steps, demanding my attention. I inhaled sharply and glanced down. The white cotton bandage around the gash on my leg was splotched with red.

Great. I probably opened a couple of the stitches. They'd been mildly haphazard when I first put them in anyway. Well, _I_ didn't. Frank did. I just talked him through it. We were just going to head straight back here after killing the Blacksmith, but the gash was bleeding through the field bandage I'd slapped on it in the woods. I'd never been so grateful that I remembered to bring a first aid kit. That way we were able to just stitch it up in the car and go.

But not it's looking like I'm probably going to have to re stitch it a bit. I groaned and turned back for the counter. Thankfully for me, I always keep a first aid kit under the counter in case of instances like this. I grabbed the kit, and then I moved quickly but carefully to the closest table, gently lowering myself into the empty chair. It was in pain, but I propped my ankle on the edge of the chair opposite me.

As I pulled back the bandaging, the clearer it became I was right. There was a four out of five ratio of torn stitches. I unzipped the med kit with a sigh and started threading a needle. This would be the second time I've had to stitch a bleeding wound on myself. The first time was when I got shot. That was fun. This was going to hurt—a lot. But I had no choice but to sew it back up right here. I wasn't even supposed to be doing this today.

I was supposed to be taking it easy—as per Frank's orders. But, when have I ever listened to men? Probably never. So, here I am, sticking myself with a needle and thread. _Balls_. I clipped off the first stitch and sat back a second to take a breath. My whole leg was burning. Not to mention that my fingers were coated in blood, making it harder to do this. I took a deep breath and started another suture. The needle slid in, sending a wave of prickling heat up the bone.

I audibly winced, hissing, but kept going. It was four stitches total. And after that, I had to replace the bloodied bandage and this time I decided to wrap it, too. I'd just clipped off the wrap when I heard the bell above the door jingle, followed by a loud, "MOM!"

My eyes shot up, and my heart instantly lurched into my throat. Chase's face lit up as he ran toward me from the door. In that moment I couldn't even breathe. It didn't make sense to me why he was here, but I couldn't be bothered with that notion. "Chase?" I gasped. I quickly slid my leg down and stood, just in time for Chase's small form to slam into me. I was knocked back a step, but I quickly slid my arms under his and hefted him up.

His arms wound tightly around my neck and I clung to him just as tight. Tears burned their way down my cheeks as I struggled to make my lungs work, trying to catch a breath. I squeezed my eyes shut. "I missed you so much," It was a fight, but I was able to just barely speak louder than a whisper.

"I missed you, too, Mom," Chase replied, holding on tighter.

There was a certain sadness to his tone that I recognized. He was crying, too. I opened my eyes as I finally was able to suck in a breath. And that's when I noticed a middle-aged man in a suit standing near the front door. There was an easy-going, closed-mouth smile on his face with his hands in his pockets, watching. Something about that description was extremely familiar.

I tried to think of where I'd seen or even heard of it before. But I couldn't place it with all the thought whirling around in my brain right then. I sniffled hard. "I guess I have you to thank for this?" I asked the man, knowingly. He was quiet a short moment before responding.

"No need to thank me," he shook his head. "Writing other people's wrongs is its own reward.

Chase leaned back in my arms to see me. "He works for S.H.I.E.L.D., Mom! He knows Dani. He said I'm an ' _honorary agent_ '."

He'd puffed his chest up, proud of his new title. "Did he now?" I looked to the apparent agent. Then it hit me. I _do_ know who this is. I've just never actually met the guy. Dani told me all about her code words and who to call when there was a major emergency. The main name that always came up was _Coulson_. " _You're_ Agent Coulson," I realized, aloud.

He nodded once. "Yes, I am. And you're Alison Fletcher—daughter of Eleanor Fletcher. I never forget a face. You have her eyes," he looked calm, casual, but I felt like anything but. Saying that name in front of Chase was the worst thing that could've happened. I only prayed he wouldn't ask. Agent Coulson was quick to add, "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me—and so is your boy. Take care of him."

"Thank you. I will," I nodded quickly.

He turned and pushed through the glass doors, disappearing from my line of sight down the sidewalk. "Mom!" Chase shook my shoulders a little, causing me to look at him. "Why is this place empty? What did I miss?" I paused. Right. He was who knows where while a lot of things were going on here. There's no way he'd know that Frank and I are actually together now. _Well, that talk should be fun_.

I shook my head. "I'll tell you later. You hungry? I'm suddenly in the mood for pancakes."

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

I was just leaving the Castle house when Foggy called me. He started rambling. Something about Mahoney. I don't know, I wasn't listening much. I just said what I had to to get off the phone. But then Matt called. And when _he_ started talking about Mahoney I decided to listen. Apparently, Mahoney was beaten by guys looking for something on Daredevil.

I quickly changed and then met Daredevil at the precinct. We camped out on the fire escape, looking to draw Mahoney out. I'm sure Nobu and The Hand had something to do with this, but we need to make sure. Daredevil opened the door slightly a few times, just enough to get his attention. He then came and stood with me on the stairs.

Not too long after, Mahoney stepped out. He didn't look happy to see us. Bruises dotted his face and his left arm was in a sling. I whistled at the sight of his injuries. He gave me a disapproving look. "So…" he said. "This is what it's come to? The masked vigilantes are the only ones I can trust."

"What happened?" Daredevil asked. I glanced at him before looking back at Mahoney, my arms crossed as I leaned into the rail.

"I knew it would be a matter of time before you showed up," his voice had an edge to it. A mixture of anger and annoyance. "Again."

"Brett," I said softly, sympathetically. He looked at me with the same hateful eyes he had on Daredevil. They quickly softened when he saw my expression. "Can you please just tell us?" He looked away, thinking. After a moment, I thought he wasn't going to say anything. And then he started talking.

"Not the first time I've been ruffed up," he said. "The job. This stuff ain't easy. But then they say they got eyes on my mom. Said they were going to kill her. Even put her on the phone."

"Who?" Daredevil asked.

Another pause. "I have no idea. Worked for someone big, though. Had real power behind those fists, and I'm not talking muscles. They wanted EVERYTHING we had on you," his voice was angry again, pointing at Daredevil. I glanced at Daredevil. He slightly shifted in his place. I could tell this wasn't easy for him. "And you." I looked back at Mahoney. He was pointing at me.

"Me?" I asked, pointing at myself. "We thought they only asked about Daredevil."

Mahoney shook his head. "No. That's the part I left out."

"Why?"

"Because they called you out by name. _Real_ name."

I nearly dropped a brick in my shorts. How does Nobu know my real name? "Real name?" I could barely get the words out, I was so shocked. "Like, _Dylan_?"

"Yeah. Now you see why I left it out," he nodded.

I turned toward him, putting one hand on the rail and the other on my hip. "And…?"

"I didn't tell them. Still don't know why," he glared at me. "Now it might surprise you to know that we keep track of two things real well. Records of people you've both put away…and incident reports, records on everyone else."

I glanced at Daredevil. "Everyone else?"

"That's what they were after," Mahoney said. "They wanted to know everyone The Devil and The Angel have ever saved." My eyes widened. Everyone we've ever saved? There's only one reason why they'd need that list. They must want to lure was out, draw us into a trap.

"Dang it," I said, looking at Daredevil. "We need to go."

"Yep." He practically cut me off. We turned and ran up the rest of the fire escape to the roof. This is going to be one busy night.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Finally, I reached just about the end of it. I was now tallied up to roughly six and a half bags of dry wall, glass, wood, and whatever else happened to explode across my living room. I sighed, grabbing two bags, and started out the front door of the Café. It was pretty dark out. But the streetlight lit up well into the ally housing my dumpster. I headed left, into the ally. Chase was currently upstairs, taking a bath. I still hadn't told him what happened while he was gone.

I thought it best to save that for later, when I'm not emotionally worn to the proverbial bone. The events of late have just been too stressful—physically and mentally. I inhaled, threw the bags into the rusty dumpster, and exhaled. Only a few hundred more things to toss in here. I turned and started back for the sidewalk. Suddenly an arm wound tight around my middle from behind, pinning my arms to my sides, while a hand covered my mouth.

I instinctively pulled, thrashing against whoever held onto me. My scream came out muffled behind this psycho's hand. Just then a blade slid up next to my throat, almost close enough to touch, and what I can only describe as a ninja came in my left side view. "静かにして一緒に来てください," he said, speaking what I assumed was either Japanese or Chinese. I didn't know how to understand either of them so I couldn't really tell the difference.

But I got the gist just from body language. They were telling me to shut up. The ninja and I'm guessing the other ninja behind me said something to each other. Then the ninja sheath his sword and started walking toward the sidewalk. The one holding me started moving as well, forcing me along with him. Just as he did, an odd looking bus pulled up alongside the road at the end of the alley. They moved me quickly to the back of the bus.

As we got there, whoever was inside pushed open the doors. My eyes rounded. Many people were already on the bus. They sat along either side of the bus, their hands zip tied. A ninja from inside grabbed my arm and yanked me up into the back of the bus with everyone else. As they shut the door, the ninja thrusted my arm, shoving me down to sit. My calf muscle tightened, burning. I did my best to ignore it as the ninja cuffed me with zip ties as well.

Then the bus started moving and the ninja headed toward the front. I inhaled. This was not good. The second time I've ever been kidnapped is now because of ninjas. Last time it was Russians. At least they had the decency to throw me in a truck by myself. Here I was just packed in with all these people like sardines in a- "Alison? What are you doing here?"

My head whipped right. "Turk?" I was shocked, to say the least. Turk sat just to my right—also looking very surprised. "I could ask you the same question, soda pop."


	36. Shadows of the Night

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We'd run as fast as we could to Alison's. She wasn't picking up the phone and she's the first person we thought of that Nobu might want. She's got a bigger target on her back than any of the other people we've ever saved combined. We made it to her building in about seven minutes, and then practically flew down the fire escape into the alley. I walked out of the alley, making a beeline for the front door.

The café's closed so no one should see me. I had heard music playing from the fire escape, but had no idea where it was coming from. But the closer I got to the café doors, the more I realized…it's coming from inside the café. Daredevil was a few paces behind me when I reached the door. I put my hand on the knob and tested it. It was unlocked. Again.

I sighed, hoping I'd find Alison camped out on the pantry floor this time. I twisted it and then pushed the door open. I was instantly hit with a loud wave of music, which echoed off the empty streets. I glanced at Daredevil. He looked just as confused. But then I recognized the song. I rolled my eyes and walked, my feet coming to a screeching halt three feet inside the door.

I felt Daredevil stop next to me as stared directly in front of me. Chase was here! How is that possible? But, even worse was what he was doing. He was dancing around the dining area, near the juke box, singing along to the song with a mop stick in his hand. It was serving as a microphone and an air guitar when the music called for it.

"Use every alibi…and words to deny that love aint meant to LAST!" he sang. I was totally speechless, like I've never been before. "You can CRY tough BABY, it's alright!" He came more into view and I was able to see what he was wearing. One red sock, one blue pink striped sock, and no pants. Instead he was wearing red Elmo boxers. Followed by a black leather jacket, MY black leather jacket, and no shirt with a white tie tied around his neck loosely. And to top it off…he was wearing a pair of those big blue '2016' shaped glasses, that were three sizes too big.

"You can let me down easy but…" He ran and jumped onto one of the chairs, catapulting him up onto a table. "…NOT TONIGHT!" I covered my mouth to stop myself from bursting into laughter. Daredevil seemed pretty amused, too. Chase brought the mop closer, positioning it for optimal guitar strumming. "We're running with the SHAAAADOOOOWS OF THE _NIGHT_! So baby take my hand, it'll be ALRIGHT! Surrender all your _dreams_ to me TONIGHT! They'll come true in the ENNNNNNNNDDD!"

He had a lamp next to the table, shinning down on him like a spot light. So this was clearly premeditated. I was hoping it was a heat of the moment thing. He continued strumming into the guitar solo. I sighed and spun around. I flipped on the light and then looked back at him. He was still on the table, but completely frozen. Mid guitar strum.

The song went on without him, as he stood there motionless breathing heavily. I don't know of any eleven year old boy, these days, who would get caught in their underwear dancing with a mop to Pat Benatar. I crossed my arms and took a few steps forward, trying to be the disapproving parental figure. I stopped within five feet of the table.

His eyes slowly shifted to look at me. And, only his eyes. The rest remained frozen. A very small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. And then the guitar solo ended and the vocals came back. He sprung to life, belting out more lyrics and strumming the mop. "We're running with the SHAAAADOOOOWS OF THE _NIGHT_! So baby-"

"Chase!" I shouted over the music. And him. He stopped and sighed. He tossed the mop and then jumped off the table. I watched as the mop bounced off another table and crashed to the ground. I turned and followed Chase with my eyes. He walked to the juke box and ended the song. Then he turned around and looked at me. Like, _looked_ at me. Like, this was the first time he'd seen me.

"DANI!" he ran the distance between us and slammed into me, wrapping his arms around my torso. He's too short to reach anything else. I patted his back and laughed. I glanced near the door. Daredevil pulled his mask off and sat it on a table.

"Okay, Chase," I said. "Chase!" I pulled him away from me like a leach. I crouched down, hands on his shoulders. "How are you here?"

He put his hands on my shoulders to mock me, then looked into my eyes very seriously. "You didn't tell me your boss was a spy!" He was mortified. I dropped my head and then shook it. Not what I expected. I looked back up at him and smiled. "I'm an 'Honorary Agent'!"

"Oh, really?" I stood. "Did Coulson say anything else?"

"Um…something about a misunderstanding," he shrugged. "But I'm back! And I get to stay!"

"How is that possible?" Matt asked me. I turned around and looked at him.

I shrugged. "He must've made some calls, pulled some strings." Then I remembered why we were really here. "Chase," I looked at him. "Does your mom know you're back?" He nodded. "Where is she?"

"I don't know. I came out of the bathroom and she was gone. She must be around somewhere. Hey, what happened to the place?!"

I rolled my eyes. "We'll tell you later. Look, something's going on right now and we need you to hide and stay put. I doubt anyone's coming back, but just in case-"

"No." He crossed his arms.

"And put on some pants."

He looked down and then back up. "NO! I am proud of my underwear. Unlike you! It'd be a shame to cover it up!"

"Wow. Okay," I shook my head. "Wait. What, about me?"

"I'm just saying my underwear's better. It's a picture. Not just the words 'I Heart Las Vegas' written across the butt," he scoffed.

"Okay!" I spun him around and then picked him up by the underarms. I held him out in front of me and then walked across the room. I headed straight for the bathroom. I pushed the door open with my foot and then dropped him inside. I slammed the door closed and then quickly tied a string around then door knob, Chase banging on the door from the other side.

I felt something touch my leg and looked down. It was Reuben. I grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck and jammed the door open. I tossed the cat in, receiving a hiss, before slamming the door shut. I then walked the string to the nearest support beam in the corner and tied it to it.

"THIS NOT FAIR!" Chase screamed. "LET ME OUT!"

I walked back to the door. "You'll be fine. This is for your safety. Someone will get you in a few hours."

"HOURS?!"

"Yes, hours. You're in the bathroom. You'll be fine. And, it's the public one. You've got multiple toilets _and_ urinals." I sighed. "I know how you like you options."

He hummed. "True." I sighed and then walked away. "Dani?" I heard. "Dani! You can't LEAVE me HERE! DANI!"

"Goodbye, Chase!"

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I exhaled a shaky breath, keeping my eyes down as a ninja passed by. Everyone on the bus looked to be trying to keep as quiet as possible. This was insane. Who even were these people? And why did they grab me and Turk out of all the people in Hell's Kitchen to kidnap? Boy, they are going to be in for a surprise when their plan is foiled. There's always a thought in the back of one's mind in this city that when you're in trouble, someone is going to save you.

The vigilantes have made that train of thought possible. But I wasn't counting on any vigilante—I was counting on one person. My thoughts were a little simpler and a lot less broad. "Get your grubby hands off me!" I quickly glanced up. Some old man was pulling against a couple of the ninjas. The ninjas then started beating him into submission, and I had to quickly look back down. I turned my head a little to see Turk.

"Why'd they grab you?" I whispered, quickly. I needed something to distract myself from the slapping sounds. He made a small scoffing sound, giving me a look "Why should I tell _you_? So that your boyfriend can punish me?"

"Hey," I titled my head in an expression, narrowing my eyes. "Don't do that. It's still me."

"The Alison I knew just a couple months ago was the smallest, sweetest thing you ever saw—all that _sugar and spice, everything nice_ garbage. Just goes to show I don't know you at all, Fletcher." I sighed heavily and leaned back against the wall. This was just great. And here I thought Turk would be one of the people to understand. I was wrong. It was quiet for a moment. I tried to remember how long it'd been since we left the Café.

But it all seemed like such a blur. _Don't panic, Alison_. I tipped my head back to rest against the wall. _He'll see that you're missing and he'll find you_. Right. How many times have I force fed myself that lie just to stay sane? _Just hold on, someone is coming_. Well, guess what? No one is coming. _Be your own hero_. "I was just out for a stroll," Turk's sudden voice surprised me, and I tilted my head to listen. "I'm supposed to be under house arrest-"

"You're being monitored?" My eyes widened.

He sighed. "Not exactly."

I lifted my head and turned a little to see him. He stared back as me lazily and I gestured with my cuffed hands. "Come on, out with it. What did you do?"

"I might have tampered with it just a little…"

"Turn it back on."

"And get shot by these morons?" He turned on me, appalled.

I gave him a look. "Turn. It. On. Or I swear to whoever's up there, I will _punish_ you myself."

He opened his mouth to speak, but he quickly stopped himself at a lone, "No talking." I glanced up. The lanky, red haired woman that I guessed was the leader of this op was looking at all of us in turn. Then her eyes stopped on me. She was less than two feet to my left. Great. This means nothing good. "What's _your_ name?" she asked.

"Alison Fletcher," I answered, tiredly. "Shouldn't you know this? After all, you are the one kidnapping me."

She made a small, mocking gesture of a chuckle. Then she sent the back of her hand across my face. The force pushed my head left a bit and the hit left behind a sharp sting to my cheek. "Leave her alone!" The old man the ninjas wailed on from before stood up, angered. _Oh no_. The ninjas grabbed him on either side. I sighed heavily, shaking my head.

"Don't touch him! He's scared, alright—we're all just scared," I reasoned. "No one has to get hurt, yeah?"

The woman in charge turned, aimed her silver hand gun, and sent a bullet right through the old man's skull. Blood and brains splattered the wall of the bus behind him and he fell limp. Gasps and anxious murmurs flooded across the bus, and my stomach turned. The woman turned around and threw her arms out. "Not anymore," she shook her head. Then, waving her gun around, she added, "Next one to make a sound dies."

Could this honestly get much worse? Probably not. I tried for a deep breath and carefully looked to Turk. His expression was knowingly sympathetic. My eyes hardened, and I hoped he would get the message. _Come on, Turk. You're stronger than that_. He sighed and reached down, lifting his pant leg. He squeezed the sides of the small black box attached to his ankle.

A red light on the box blinked on and Turk dropped his pant leg, looking back up at me. He gave me a look that said if anything happened to him because of that he would blame me. I gave him a look right back, silently telling him that if anything happened _I_ would blame myself.

 **Dani's POV**  
(Nightwing27th)

We went back to Matt's place after leaving Chase. I sat on the edge of the roof, legs dangling off, and a laptop in hand. My fingers were going crazy across the keys. Alison and who knows how many people have been taking by The Hand. We need to find them before something happens. I can't let Alison die. I can't let my actions leave another child without any parents.

I was checking the satellite. Backtracking, skimming through the recordings from the day. Someone had to have seen something! I opened a new window and began hacking into the city's cameras. There are three around the café. One might have caught something.

"Come on, come on." Daredevil was about twenty feet away, doing his best to listen for them, for Alison. Mainly since we don't know who else they took. But from the sounds of it, he's not having much luck. Elektra came out awhile ago. Now she's just pacing…in that stupid trench coat. I glance over at her and then back at my screen, my fingers not missing a beat. She was walking up to Daredevil.

Next thing I knew she was standing next to me. She crouched down, about a foot between us. "What are you doing?" she asked with genuine curiosity.

"Hacking into the city's cameras around Alison's building," I said it quickly, trying not to lose focus.

"You can do that?" I ignored her. "And what's the other thing?" She nodded toward the screen. I stopped typing, slamming my hands on the keyboard.

"It's a satellite," I said forcefully, looking at her. "My satellite." She raised her eyebrows looking impressed. "Like you said," I spoke sassy and condescending, "I'm not just a pretty face." I glared at her a second before going back to typing. She stood and went back to Daredevil.

"The people they took aren't the target," I heard him say. "They're bait. The Hand's trying to lure us in."

"It's me they want," Elektra said. I rolled my eyes. "You guys are the only thing in their way."

"Those people are innocent."

"You can't just take the bait."

"I know, but I can't just abandon them either," he said. The satellite finally found the right date and time. Ten minutes before we got there. It played the footage back to me in photo stills. You see Alison exit the café from the front door. She's carrying something. Then she walks to the alley. Then the thing she had was gone. Then she walking toward the road as a bus thing pulls up. Must be ninjas leading her. They were black, I wouldn't be able to see them. She disappeared inside the bus and then they were gone.

I glanced over at the others. She was crouched down next to him. Her lips were moving but I didn't care to hear the words. I went back to typing. I typed in the code telling the satellite to follow the bus. That'll take some time since it's all stills. Then I went back to hacking the cameras.

"You'll find them," Elektra said. "You'll find her, Matthew." I was internally screaming. I just want to kill her, why can't I kill her? Problem solved! No more Elektra, no more Hand. That simple. I finally cracked it and got into the city's cameras. I quickly started locating the ones by her place.

Daredevil screamed in frustration. "I can't hear anything! The electricity in this building's too loud, the city's pulsing…" I looked over at him. He was pacing, clearly mad at himself. He's always been able to hear Alison, even when the Irish took her and Frank, Matt still heard her. And now the one time he really needs to…he can't.

I was moving before I knew what I was doing. I pushed the laptop aside, leaving it to load. I stood and promptly walked up to them. Elektra was spewing nonsense again, telling him to calm down and it clearly wasn't working. I walked passed her and straight to him, stuck on a course I might regret later.

I centered myself in front of him, putting my hand on the back of his head and then pulling him into me as I forced my lips against his. At first he was surprised, so was I, and then he gave in. He returned the kiss, wanting more. I closed my eyes, drawing it out. I felt him relax and let go of all the pressure of trying to find them.

He'd calmed down, my mission was complete. And yet, I was still kissing him. And, not just to kiss him. It was how we used to, exactly the same. I flashed back to the roof top where we first kissed and couldn't help myself but want to be there, for that to be real. To get a do over. Believe me, there are so many things I would change if I could. But I can't.

We drew it out, just like we always did. I pulled away, hovering in front of him, feeling hollow yet whole. Wanting more yet satisfied with what I got. Like, if that were the last time I ever kissed him…I'd be okay. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, taking a small step back. My hand slid down to his neck.

"One at a time," I said softly. "Tune it all out. Weed away at the sounds…until Alison's voice is all you hear." I reached down and grabbed his hand with my free one. He did as I said. I could tell he was listening hard. But he wasn't frantic about it. He was calm. After about thirty seconds, he raised his head with that look. And I knew he'd found her.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

The bus finally came to a stop after a long drive. We backed up for a moment, and then they turned off the engine. The redhead opened the back doors and climbed out. A couple of the ninjas grabbed the old man's body and started hefting him out. The bus was full of anxious whispers. No one could understand what in the world the ninjas were saying. But, when they got the body off the bus, one of the ninjas jutted his gun toward the door.

Suddenly everyone knew what he meant. _Move_. Everyone clamored to their feet and were racing out the doors within seconds of the gesture. I sighed and stood, followed by Turk, and went with the crowd out the back of the bus. The crowd ambled on, up a slight ramp, and straight into a large freight elevator. We were being corralled into it like a herd of cattle. There was a least a good two dozen of us in total, all crammed in.

Once everyone had stuffed inside, the ninjas and the witch of a leader they had filed in in front. They closed the door and we were going up. I closed my eyes for a moment, took in a breath. This was an awful situation. Just like last time I was kidnapped. But I can get out of this. I always do, one way or another, just usually with the aid of someone in a mask. Too bad none of them know I'm missing. Just then, the elevator jolted to a stop.

The ninjas rolled the doors open, shouting something in a foreign language, and the crowd instantly was pouring out of the elevator. I'd lost sight of Turk when we filed in. I tried glancing around but people were too frantic in their pushing and shoving. I was literally pushed out with everyone. We went out into a hallway, to the left, and onward. The whole way several feet down the hall, the ninjas were shouting things no one could understand.

It was quite annoying. If you want Americans to know what you're saying, speak ENGLISH. Either that or get an interpreter for Pete's sake. You're an evil mastermind; surely you can at least do that, right? The ninjas directed us into a room to the left. I followed in like a good hostage. The ninjas were gesturing to the floor center room and people took the hint, getting down on their knees in the middle of the room.

I followed suit, taking a seat farthest from the door. A second after I did, I glanced right at movement, and I noticed Turk sitting beside me. He gave me a look and I knew what he was trying to say. _You may be crazy but I'm not leaving you alone with these other crazies_. Totally something he would say. I heard the thunk of the door closing from behind, followed by a police siren. My body flooded with relief.

Not because the cops would save us all. But because if there was noise, if there was police chatter on the radio, Frank would pick it up on his scanner. Matt could hear it from his apartment. And Dani would probably tag along just because she could. Help would be coming either way. I looked to Turk and nodded.

The redheaded woman sighed heavily and muttered something in the other language. Then she turned and left the room, the door falling closed behind her. "That's a good thing, right?" Turk whispered, hopeful. I glanced around at the ninjas, then I lowered my voice, hunching a bit to hide the fact that I was talking. I exhaled, "Trust me…it's good."


	37. The Begining of the End

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We'd run all the way there. Of course. We hit the right roof top and then I slowed my pace, following the others to the edge. "That's the place," Daredevil said, looking over at the next building. "Two dead police below, fifteen to twenty hostages inside."

"Nobu's men?" Elektra asked. I'm still not even sure why she's here.

"They can hide their hearts but…there's this many of them they're buzzing like a bee hive."

"Any guess about how many?" I asked.

"Don't know."

"Can you isolate Nobu?" Elektra asked. I sighed and pulled out my phone.

"No."

"We can't move until we're sure he's here."

"What would you have us do," I said, " _Elektra_? Sit up here with our thumbs up our butts while we wait till you're _satisfied_ Nobu's here? _He_ ," I pointed at Daredevil, "promised to help you. Not me. I will do as I bloody well please." I went back to my phone, dialing the number for the burner I gave Frank. Looks like _I_ might need back up.

I switched on my ear piece and then slid away the phone. I might've just kissed Matt, but I still don't want him listening in. Accident or not. The phone rang while I watched Daredevil and Elektra argue. I couldn't help a smile. Then he picked up. "Hey," I glanced at the other before turning around. "Look, something's happened. The _thing's_ going to need to have a slight delay."

"Does it have to do with all the chatter?" he asked. I knew he was referring to that stupid police radio of his. I was hearing some kind of noise in the background, but couldn't make it out.

"Yeah," I sighed. "Are you sitting down?" The noise I heard stopped, followed by a pause.

"Why?" I could tell he was curious, but at the same time his voice had this edge. I hesitated, trying to figure out how to word it. "Dani?"

"Alison was kidnapped, with a bunch of other people," I said calmly. "I've got…company, with me. But there are several things going on right now and I don't know for sure whose doing what, whose got my back. And in this case, the more guns the better." There was a pause.

"Okay," he said. I rattled off the address, mainly just to make sure he didn't go to the wrong place. "Alright. Keep your head down until I get there, yeah?"

"No promises," I smirked. I turned around and looked at the others. I heard a muffled half chuckle from the other end, seconds before the line went dead. I switched off my ear piece and then rejoined reality. I only caught part of what Elektra was saying, "…what he wants: you dead, me captured. The Hand wins. I know it's harsh, but the people in there are a drop in the ocean compared to what happens next if Nobu gets a hold of me."

"These people are in danger because of me," Daredevil said. "I'm getting them out." He turned away from her and walked straight up to me, stopping four feet in front of me. "Are you with me?"

"Depends," I glanced at Elektra before looking back at him. "Are you with _me_?"

"Always," he didn't hesitate to say it, even slightly cut me off.

I straightened and then nodded. "Good answer." He nodded back, looking relieved. I turned and started walking, he followed suit. "It's the wrong play," I heard Elektra call. I stopped and looked back as Daredevil kept walking. He turned around, walking backwards.

"It's the only play," he told her. I smiled to myself and then kept walking. "You stay _here_ ," he said jokingly, then turned serious. "We've got work to do." He turned around and then started jogging to the edge. I picked up the pace to catch up. He looked at me. "Did you call Frank?"

He said it in a sort of hopeful way. Which is weird. I thought he still thought Frank was dead. But maybe he figures that if I'm alive so is he. I smiled, then gave a sure nod. "I called Frank."

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Turk fidgeted with his ankle monitor a bit, readjusting his sitting position. I eyed him a moment. What, was he trying to get us all caught? Maybe with a side of super-dead? I sent my elbow into his side and he looked up at me. I shook my head, causing him to sigh and sit back. "Don't-"

I was interrupted by a ninja walking over. He'd circled the whole group, and stopped in front of Turk and I. He looked down at Turk's leg. Oh no…not good. He started saying something in whatever language it was these lunatics were speaking as he bent down to investigate. Turk quickly tried to cover his ankle with his hands. "There's nothing there," I quickly shook my head, sitting up.

"No, no- it's a family heirloom," Turk lied, urgently. The ninja said something over his shoulder, causing more ninjas to circle. My heart was starting to crawl into my throat. Turk was arguing with the ninja that discovered the tracker, but I was too busy watching in horror as another ninja pulled out a short blade. _Balls_.

"No, that's not necessary," I leaned forward, trying to reason with a ninja that probably didn't even speak English. "Really, just press the button- turn it off. You don't have to do this, _please_." The ninja in the back handed his knife to the ninja knelt in front of us. He then grabbed Turk's ankle forcefully with his other hand. Everyone in the crowd started murmuring wildly. I had to act quickly. I had to do _something_. So I did.

"Stop- no!" I quickly jutted my hands forward, slamming my fists into the ninja's wrist. It knocked his blade off course enough to put the brakes on the cutting-off-Turk's-whole-foot train. The ninja's weren't too happy. But I then jutted my hands up, into the ninja's face, and he fell back onto his butt with an _oof!_

Gasps and shrieks came from people in the large group behind me. The other ninja's quickly moved in. One on each side, they grabbed my arms and yanked me up to my feet. I pulled at them but they were too strong. The ninja I'd hit stood and pulled out his sword, putting the sharp blade a fraction of an inch from my neck, saying something I couldn't understand. Suddenly the glass wall of a window shattered in, and Daredevil rolled across the floor.

Angel landed on her feet a moment later. Now the crowd was really screaming. Daredevil instantly sent one of his sticks into a ninja's face to my right, while Angel sent arrows off to the left. Here we go. I took in a breath and slammed my head into the ninja holding my right arm. He let go enough for me to slip free and twist, hiking up my leg, and thrusting my foot into the ninja on my left.

The ninja stumbled back but it wasn't anything too distracting. It was like it didn't even faze him. Angel was beside me in a second, stabbing an arrow into the ninja at my right. Then she turned, loaded an arrow into her bow, and fired at the ninja on my left—taking them both down within the span of a minute. She twisted and slammed her bow across the face of the ninja that held a knife to my throat.

All three were now out. Gunfire erupted and I whirled around. Daredevil bum rushed a ninja holding a machine gun, causing bullets to spray up the wall. He tackled the ninja to the ground and slammed the man's head into the cement flooring a few times, one extra time for good measure. I felt a hand on my arm before I heard Dani's voice. "Are you okay?" she asked, pulling out her knife.

She grabbed my cuffed wrists and slit the zip tie. "Everyone out!" Daredevil hollered behind us. "Go- _go!_ "

I turned toward Dani, nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine-"

"Alison," Turk grabbed my arm beside me. "Come on, we need to get out of here." I looked to Dani and she nodded once before quickly moving to join Daredevil across the room. I sighed and Turk pulled me to the door with him, following the crowd. Everyone was pooling into the hallway and practically running down the stairwell. My heart was pounding in my ears. There was no way I was gonna sit this one out. I'm helping this time.

I took the steps down two at a time and wriggled past until I was near the front of the ocean of hostages. Someone ahead of me pushing open the door at the bottom and rushed out. I hurried out right behind. "Everyone out! Head left!" I called, turning around to face the outpouring mass. I used my arms as directional signs to point toward the end of the alley. "Go to the police cars, okay?"

Everyone scrambled out into the alley and started running for safety at the cruisers. Once I was sure people got the idea, I turned and started in the opposite direction of the police cars. If I ran into Brett down there I probably wouldn't be helping any vigilantes, so it was best I went the back way. I jogged to the back end of the building. I honestly didn't know which way I was going to turn, but something made that choice for me.

I felt a sudden jerk on my right arm and, in a blur, I was yanked around behind the back of the warehouse. My first instinct was to shriek in surprise. But before I could make too much noise, my back was pressed into brick and soft lips covered mine. Everything in me was telling me to fight it but there was no denying whose lips these were. After a second, they pulled away, and I opened my eyes to find Frank's warm brown irises.

I suddenly felt the urge to slap him again. My chest was heaving from the sudden spike in adrenaline, and I took a few deep breaths. "Are you insane?" I whisper yelled, trying—and failing—to keep my voice down. "That hat trick could've gotten both of us caught."

"It worked, didn't it?"

The ghost of a smile played at his lips and I sighed, giving him a look. He was ridiculous. But it was a nice change of pace to see him something other than sad or angry. "Well, are you gonna kiss me, or what?" I asked, sarcastically impatient. He probably didn't need much of an invitation. He leaned in and I rose up on my toes, just in time to meld my mouth with his. I let my eyes close, relaxing into the touch as his right hand slid onto my cheek.

I parted my lips to deepen the kiss and he kissed me back even deeper. There was a solid wall behind me so I wasn't going anywhere any time soon, not with every inch of his being so close to my only escape. My hands rested on his chest, gripping his jacket for support. After a moment, he broke the kiss to rest his forehead against mine. I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes. "Are you okay?"

His voice was quiet, small, but it still sounded rough and worn—like he'd been a chain smoker all his life. I inhaled a deep breath. "Yeah…I'm alright," I answered, thinking. I briefly wondered if anyone would come looking for me. After all, Turk knew I was with the group. Then suddenly I'm not there anymore? It's suspicious. He took in a breath, his chest expanding against mine, then contracting as he exhaled.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner-"

"Frank," I sighed, finally pulling my eyelids up. His eyes were already stuck on mine. "It's okay. Any later and I might have been skewered—but don't apologize." He paused, his head tilting just slightly as his eyes narrowed questioningly. I realized what I just said and quickly added, "It's fine, really- I just kind of made this ninja mad, but the vigilantes showed up before he could, so I'm okay."

He nodded once, his eyes still narrowed, scanning me. "I brought your jacket," he said, raising his left hand. He had a fistful of my blue leather Angel jacket. I inwardly slapped myself for not noticing it before. Shows you where my priorities are. My eyes moved from the jacket to his. I couldn't fight a small smile. "You brought my jacket," I repeated, mildly surprised.

"Yeah. Figured you could use it."

I paused, slapping myself at the first thought that popped into my head. With a small sigh, I looked down at the jacket. "I need to apologize," I stated, a pang of guilt hitting my chest. "I honestly don't think you shot me on purpose- I was such a brat-"

I heard him sigh. "Alison-"

"Don't _Alison_ me, okay? I'm sorry. I'm _really_ sorry. I should never have said that. It was stupid and childish and I just…I don't want you to think I blame you—for any of this. Because I don't." I shook my head, moving my eyes up to meet his. There was an echo of surprise to his features as his intense gaze studied my face. "Frank, I…I _love_ you. And I don't want to lose you over something as stupid as-"

"Hey," he bent slightly, lowering to look me straight in the eye, and I swallowed. "Maybe all the choir boys you were with before broke your heart and left you with nothing, but you're not getting rid of me that easily. It's gonna take a lot more than one bad night." Now it was my turn to stare. My heart was aching. _Did he really just say that?_ I took in a deep breath. Only then did I feel the sting at the corners of my eyes.

I hadn't even noticed when a stray tear felt the need to slide down my cheek. And it only prompted more to roll out at his words. All I could do was laugh. It was an incredibly odd mix of reactions but I didn't know what else to do—it just started happening. A smile eased its way onto Frank's lips, and his head tilted just slightly. "Somethin' funny?" he asked, curiously.

I sniffled hard, forcing myself to sober up as much as possible, and I gave a shake of my head. "I don't deserve you, Frank Castle."

 **Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

All the hostages were on their way out of the building, including Alison. Thankfully she was in one piece, and alive, when we got here. I watched the door close before looking at Daredevil. "You okay," I panted. He nodded, right as I saw blood coming out of a hole in his suit. It was on his chest near his collar bone.

I'm assuming it's a bullet hole from when he attacked that guy with the machine gun. "Yeah, right." I took a step forward, putting my hand near the wound. "We're not bullet proof."

"I know," he said. "I'm fine." He stepped away, picking up his Billy Club.

"Just because we're not together anymore, doesn't mean I still don't care about what happens to you," I sighed, spinning to see him. He looked at me. Something flashed across his face. Sorrow, regret. I don't know. But it was barely long enough for me to catch it. And it made me realize what I said. That was the first time that I've said that we're no longer a couple. Especially to him.

Two ninjas appeared out of nowhere (real shocker since that's what they do), swords drawn and ready for a fight. Great. I stepped back, drawing an arrow and sliding it into place. I shot it at the ninja in front of me, but he cut it in half before it reached him. That's okay. That's what I wanted.

I reloaded and then shot him in the leg, upper thigh. His leg buckled as I ran up to him. His knee hit the ground, but he saw me coming and brought up his sword. I put one hand on each of my bows limbs, swinging it in front of me. It connected with the sword, sparking.

The sword left his hand as I brought the bow back around, slamming the one of the cams into his head. I yanked the arrow out of his thigh before he could recover from the hit. I brought the tip of the arrow straight from his leg and it his neck with one fluid motion. He started gagging as blood poured out around the arrow.

I kicked him in the chest and watched as he fell over. Something sharp stabbed me in the back of the shoulder. I whipped around, readying an arrow. But it was no use. The ninja was already on top of me. He sliced across the front of my suit, as I took a step back. I felt the sword tear my suit, but couldn't tell if it'd gone all the way through.

I brought my bow up as a shield as he came down with the sword. The blade dug into my bow. He pressed down with all his might. I pushed against it as hard as I could. Something hit me in the back of my knee and it buckled. My left knee hit the ground as the sword slipped off my bow and came down on me.

It crashed down on top of my left shoulder. A muffled cry escaped me as I felt the blade hit my skin. The whole thing had happened so fast, I barely had time to process what'd happened. His hands were still on the handle of the sword, which was still in my suit. I brought my fist down on the inside of his elbow.

His grip on the sword faltered. I grabbed the handle, clenching my teeth against the pain as I slid the sword away from my and jammed the end of it into him. He stepped back as I made to stand, pulling the sword completely out of my suit. I was half way up when something struck me in the side of the head.

I went down, slamming into the concrete floor, the sword clattering out of my hand. I looked up at the ninja standing over me. He moved to finish me off. But before he could, a shinny blade pierced him from behind. I sighed with relief as he fell. Elektra was standing behind him. I sighed.

I pushed myself off the ground to my knees. I realized there was still something in the back of my shoulder and reached behind me for it. I looked up at Elektra like she was stupid. My fingers grabbed it and I yanked it out, wincing. I brought it into my view. It was a throwing star. Figures.

Elektra's hand stretched out in front of me. "Don't suppose we're even?" I tossed the star and took her hand. She helped me stand and then I quickly dropped it. "You look terrible." I felt the side of my mask, near my temple, where I got hit. There was a small crater in the mask. I pulled back my fingers and found blood. But that didn't surprise me. I could feel it rolling down my face. It was only a matter of time before it came rolling out the bottom of my mask.

"So do you," I said. She smiled slightly as more ninjas rushed into the room. I bent down and grabbed my bow as Elektra pulled her bandana thing over her mouth. My shoulder burned. I could feel hot sticky blood rolling down my chest inside my suit. It's not too bad. The blade stopped at the bone, near the outer most part of my shoulder.

I can still use it and I won't die. That's all that matters. There were three ninjas. One of which had already engaged Daredevil. The other two came our way and we stepped up to the plate. Elektra fought the one with her sai and I fought the other with my bow. I pulled back an arrow and let it fly.

I continued shooting, getting closer with each arrow. I got closer enough and punched him with the hand holding my bow. His head flew back as I grabbed his wrist. I twisted it the wrong way until my ears filled with the sound of it breaking. I promptly dropped it and then pulled out a knife. I flipped it around in my hand, blade facing me. Then I slit his throat.

We'd each finished off our ninja at about the same time. I looked at the others. A pair of hands tore through the wall and wrapped around Elektra. They pulled her into it until she'd broken through. Daredevil was the first one through the hole. He went right, so I went left.

The ninja in front of me backed up as he saw us enter. I smacked the sword out of his hand with my bow and then drove my blade into his gut. I spun and then kicked him in the side of the head. He flew right and slammed into a wall, cracking it. I turned to face the others.

Elektra stood, a small gash on her upper arm. Nothing too bad. I looked to Daredevil. "The only way out is up," he said. "Let's head to the roof."


	38. Already Yours

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

We ran up several flights of stairs before coming to a hallway. Elektra and I were following Daredevil. We knew he knew how to get out of here better than either of us. We ran halfway down the hallway before stopping. Daredevil opened a door on the right, then ushered us in. We both went in, with him following. I watched him close and lock the door.

I glanced around at the room. It was small and dark, but I could still see. A metal spiral stair case sat near the back. I'm assuming that leads to the roof. I had put my bow away a while ago to take some weight off my shoulder. He were exhausted, taking deep breaths.

"I'm not gonna lie to you," Daredevil said. "There's a lot more coming."

"One thing's for sure," Elektra was pacing, "we're gonna die."

"Loving the vote of confidence," I said as I played with my injured shoulder's movement. "But…wouldn't be the first time I died."

"No one's dying," Daredevil looked at me. He was standing close to Elektra and has been since she showed up. I sighed and tried to ignore the mass of emotions in me. As soon as I get to Clint's I'm crying for a week. Minimum. Maybe three. Four, if I'm dedicated enough, and I just might be.

"You don't know that," I said it sternly, with more confidence than I've spoken to him in a long time. Because it's true. As soon as we get on that roof, what happens happens. And nothing he can say will ever change that. He stared at me, slightly stunned. Then he looked away. So did I.

Without a word, he headed to the stairs. I sighed in annoyance and followed behind Elektra. We walked up a couple for more flights before coming to a landing. I could hear ninjas starting to beat on the door we'd come in through. It won't be long before they get through it.

"What's out there?" Elektra asked him.

"Too many to count," he replied. "Armed. Packing katanas, couple of long bows." He stopped and tilted his head. "More coming up from below, same weapons. I say we've got a couple of minutes before they break through that door." Elektra slid to the ground. She pulled her knees up, looking on the verge of a mental break down.

I opened my mouth to speak when a loud bang cut me off. I glanced back down the stairs. I can just barely see the door. It's still closed, but they're trying. I turned back. "Frank should be here any minute," I said. She looked up at me, not assured at all by that. I looked at Daredevil. "Clint's too far away. And the only other person near us able to help probably wouldn't come if I called her." He looked at me, his expression unreadable.

"But," I continued, "I can call in a favor, get an extraction team here." I already had my phone out and was dialing the number before Daredevil could nod his approval. But I was going to do it anyway. As soon as the phone started ring I put it on speaker. I held it out in front of me and then leaned into the wall. Elektra looked confused, yet curious.

"Coulson," he said, finally answering. The thing nearly went to voice mail.

"I need your help," I said. "We're trapped in an abandoned building, surrounded and drastically out numbered. We need and extraction team, along with as many agents as you have, ASAP."

"Roger that. Daisy and Mack are closest to your position. I'll arrive shortly with the rest," he said. "What have you gotten yourself into this time?"

"Uh…ninjas."

"Great. Not my favorite."

"Yeah. I'll explain the rest later," I looked at the others. Daredevil seemed more relieved than Elektra did that help was coming. But both were still very serious.

"Can't wait."

"Any chance on an ETA?"

"Mack and Daisy should be there in under twenty minutes. I'm about two hours out. Even at top speed it'll take forty five minutes."

"Understood." I sighed and then hung up. "See? We've got this under control," I said sarcastically. I slid my phone away. I exhaled, long and slow. I know we probably won't last, but a few extra hands couldn't hurt anything. I've never really thought about not dying before. But now that I've got Lizzie…now that she's my responsibility, I can't stop thinking about it.

I'm her family now. Yeah, she'd have Clint but it wouldn't be the same. If I die, she loses the last person she cares about. And all of this before she turns two. That can't happen. I won't let it. I sighed, the air coming out more unsteady than I wanted it too. I thought about what Coulson said. Twenty minutes till Mack and Daisy get here.

That's too long. I glanced up at Daredevil. He was taking off his mask. I could tell by the look on his face…he knew it too. He took a step closer to me. "Can I, uh," he said slowly, "talk to you, for a second?" He motioned off to the side. I was slightly shocked, having no idea what he wanted to say, but I nodded anyway. He turned and walked to the top of the stairs. I followed, standing next to him. I turned toward him with a questioning look.

"I'm sorry I got you in to this," he started. I half scoffed, leaning into the rail. I hung my head and shook it. "What?" I looked up at him. He was genuinely curious.

"We're about to be eating alive by sword wielding ninjas, and some how you manage to make it your fault," I said. Now he just looked confused. "I signed up for this, okay? I _wanted_ to be here. Despite what you might think, I can make my own bad decisions. It's not always your fault." I looked down the stairs. "So, whatever happens…" I looked at him again. "Don't blame yourself."

"Dani-"

"Look, Matt, I'm not the super sentimental type. Okay? I know there's a good chance we'll die, and I'm not going to sugar coat it. That's not something I'm famous for either. But I don't want my last moments alive spent talking about where we went wrong or what could have been," I spoke with no emotion. "That's just not me."

"I know," he sighed.

"Maybe this is how it was always meant to be. Maybe we were just supposed to be heroes. Nothing more. That's how we met, as heroes, and fell in love. Now it looks like that's how we'll go out, too." I glanced back over at Elektra. She was still sitting in the same spot. I looked at Matt. His face kind of dropped at my words.

"I don't want that to happen."

"Yeah," I sighed and crossed my arms. "Me either." I felt a twinge in my shoulder and then put my hand on it. The wound was still bleeding, but not very much. I stared down at the floor, thinking. The ninjas were hitting the door harder and I knew our time was limited. "There is something, though," I looked at him. "Something I want to say…you know, just in case."

He stared at me blankly for a minute, then nodded. I exhaled and then looked at him. "I wanted to say…I'm sorry. For the things I said to you after Mary died, even though some of it was true. But mainly…I'm sorry I blamed you. That wasn't fair. Ward found me because I was cocky. He would've killed anyone who was close to me, Mary just happened to be the one he got his hands on." I shrugged. "While I know there are things we both wish, that night, we'd done differently…ultimately, I know it's not your fault and I don't blame you. That's it."

He looked relieved and confused at the same time. But I meant it. The only reason I'm telling him now is because I know if I died, Mary's death would probably haunt him. I know him better than he thinks. "Alright," I cleared my throat, walking toward the door to the roof. I've had enough feelings for a life time. "Ready?"

Elektra stood and Matt came forward. He slipped on his mask and then pulled out his sticks, joining them in the middle. I reached down to my leg holster and pulled out my bow. I pressed the button on the side and it expanded. I sighed, relishing in the sound it made. I looked at Daredevil. He nodded. I put my hand on the knob and then swung the door open. I stepped out, the others following me. They walked along side me.

"Why are you even doing this?" I looked at Elektra to my right. She sounded truly curious.

"Because the city needs saving," I said. "I came to this town a hero. That's how I plan to leave it." She nodded, seeing my point. We walked out into the middle of the roof, not getting far before we stopped. What looked to be about thirty ninjas, stood at the end of the roof about fifty yards away.

The others ran toward them. I followed a few feet behind, drawing an arrow. Three of the ninjas were archers, and started shooting when we got within thirty yards of them. I shot the first one center mass and he fell over. Daredevil and Elektra deflected the arrows from the other two. I fired a second arrow, hitting the next archer.

He fell over and I readied another arrow. A man's voice shouted something in Japanese behind us, and we all stopped. Both parties froze. I turned around and looked for the owner of the voice. So did Daredevil and Elektra. "No one…" the same voice said. Another ten or so ninjas stood yards away. Nobu stepped out from behind them. "…escapes destiny."

He held that stupid chain with the blade on the end. I mean, really. Doesn't he get tired of that thing? Oh, wait. Never mind. Why would he? Every time he whips it out, we lose. Instant game over. That _thing_ is out Kryptonite. And he knows it. He started walking toward us, swinging the chain around next to him. The sound of the blade cutting through the air sent chills up my spin.

"You belong to us," he said, I'm assuming talking to Elektra. "And you two…you belong to the ground." He swung the blade at us. Daredevil blocked it with his Billy Club while Elektra swung at him. I raised my bow and fired. Somehow he dodged it and advanced on Daredevil.

I reached back for an arrow as Elektra tried for another swing with a sai. Before she had the chance, Nobu spun and kicked her in the stomach. She flew back and plowed into me. We both hit the ground, a mass of tangled bodies. I sighed in annoyance, pushing her off of me. I looked to my left and saw my bow a few feet away.

I looked to my right and saw the ninjas at the end of the roof advancing, moving our way with weapons drawn. I got up just enough to lunge for my bow. I grabbed it, rolling onto my back. I had rolled over just in time to shoot a ninja a foot away from me. Elektra was on her feet fighting. In a split second we were surrounded.

I brought my knees up, rolling over my head. I came out in the crouching position, loading another arrow. I shot the closest ninja and then stood. Another one came at me, sword drawn. I stepped to the side at the last second, grabbing his wrist with my right hand. I pushed the sword away while kicking him in the stomach with my right leg.

I craned him in the back of the head with my bow while ripping the sword from his hands. I stepped around him and drove the sword into his back. I looked up at Elektra. A ninja was holding her from behind while another one came at her from the front. I shot him with an arrow, going through his temple.

I grabbed the handle of the sword in the guy's back, pulling it out as he fell. I moved straight from that to throwing it. It flew into the chest of a ninja twenty feet away while I drew back another arrow. Elektra stabbed a ninja in the chest with her sai, then kicked him away. She jogged the few feet between us, standing at my back.

I looked back at her, just long enough for our eyes to meet. Then I went back to the battle. I stepped forward and fired my arrow. I reached back for another arrow, feeling someone's hand grab my wrist. I looked my arm and spun around. I grabbed his wrist and then jammed my bow into his face. I quickly twisted his arm back like a lever on a windup toy. I heard and felt it pop.

He dropped to his knees as one of Elektra's sai flew into his chest. I drove it in farther. I yanked it out and then spun, driving it right into the next guy. I ducked, just missing a sword, and rolled forward. I came up on one knee and through the sai back to Elektra. She spun just in time to catch it before going back to her opponent.

I stood and turned, going straight into a cartwheel. Both my feet came down on the guy who'd swung at me. He hit the floor as I landed. I quickly brought up my bow, blocking a jab with a sword. Without looking, I kicked the guy on the ground in the face since I couldn't end his life. Either way, I didn't want him getting back up.

I swung my bow right, letting the blade slide off of it. I jumped and kicked him in the side. I pulled back an arrow and then shot him in the chest. He dropped to his knees. I took a second and looked around. There were still plenty of ninjas to go around. Daredevil, though, was locked in a one-on-one battle with Nobu. I really didn't like the sound of that.

I huffed, exhausted. I walked forward, to the next ninja. I wrapped my arm around the neck of the guy I just shoot. I got a good grip before jerking up and just the right way. I heard the crack and then let go, reaching back for an arrow. I walked forward, trying to bulldoze a path to get to Nobu. I shot an arrow to the left, hitting one of the ninjas Elektra was fighting.

I tossed my bow in my right hand and then swung it like a bat at an oncoming ninja. He flew back and off to the side. And then I was in the free and clear. I finally had my chance to go fight Nobu, to help Daredevil. And then someone kicked me from behind. I stumbled forward, transforming the energy into a roll. I came up on one knee, facing the wrong way from my opponent.

I twisted around to see him, just in time to catch his leg inches from my face. I pushed it away from me and then punched. He deflected it and then clocked me in the jaw. I turned back to him and grabbed two fists full of his outfit. I hefted him over my head and slammed him on the ground. I heaved for breath, my shoulder burning.

I pulled out a knife and then drove it into his heart. I stood and instantly felt arms around me, pinning mine to me. I got a good hold on his arms and then went limp, dropping to the ground. He was prepared to hold me, but not _all_ of my weight. As soon as my butt hit the ground, I carried the motion forward, flipping him onto his back.

Once down, I quickly got into position. I laid back and wrapped my legs around his neck. Still holding his arms, I refused to let go, squeezing my thighs as much as I could. I turned my pelvis slightly and was met with the crack of his neck. He went limp and I quickly let go, righting myself.

I rolled over onto my stomach and saw my bow. I reached out and grabbed it, just as my eyes jutted up to see Elektra. She was about ten feet away, closer to Nobu and Daredevil than I was. I didn't see the whole thing, but I had looked up just in time to see the end result.

A ninja swung from behind, his blade slicing right through her neck. All the air left my lungs. I wasn't sure if I should jump for joy or be mad. But he carried out the move, her head falling off her shoulders and tumbling to the ground. Everyone froze, the battle froze. I very slowly pushed up to my knees and then sat back on my heels.

Elektra was dead. Decapitated. And I didn't even get to do it. My bow rested in my left hand. I tightened my grip on it. No way are they just going to leave us alive. They wanted her. She's the whole reason for all of this. Daredevil and Nobu were on the ground when it happened. Now they both were slowly getting to their feet.

Daredevil slowly walked over to her body. He wasn't wearing his mask anymore. He must've lost it during the fight. I glanced around me, counting ninjas, plotting my next move. Yes, I feel bad she's dead. And yes, I feel even worse for Matt. But…I don't have time for feelings. Right now, those feelings might get me killed. I ever so slowly rose to my feet.

I looked at Daredevil. He just stood there above her body, looking down. He knows she's dead. But the worst part about it ending like this, is that she's dead. There's no 'trying to save her', no 'final words'. Nothing. Just dead. Instant dead. You know, that should be the name of a coffee. I sighed. I always think of these things at the worst times.

I looked to Nobu. He looked at the body, angry and confused at the same time. The ninja that died that…if he doesn't die here he'll probably die as soon as he gets back to Nobu Incorporated. Nobu marched past me. I turned, following him with my eyes. A new round of ninjas had just appeared on the roof. Probably another thirty.

He marched past them and pointed back at us, saying something in Japanese. And I knew what it meant. 'Kill them'. I sighed and then reached for an arrow. Really? More ninjas? I loaded the arrow and then backed up. I kept walking backwards until, the string pulled back, until I saw Daredevil out of the corner of my eye.

And then the ninjas advanced. They ran forward, weapons drawn. I looked at Daredevil. He was more than ready to kick more ninja butt. He charged forward, no mask and no plan. I fired my arrow and then reloaded. I pulled back the string as Daredevil made contact with the first ninja.

I released the arrow and then reloaded. A gunshot filled my ears and a ninja dropped. I fired my arrow and then spun around, hearing something hit metal. I looked just in time to see a metal hook wrapping itself around the leg of the water tower twenty feet away. That hook was attacked to a metal cable. A zip line. I had just enough time to think that before I was tackled.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I can honestly say I've never used a zip line up until this point. _Well, now I can say I did it_. That thought whizzed through my mind just as my feet slid onto the pavement of the other rooftop. My hands dropped the handle and I was moving, pulling the shotgun off my back. It wasn't hard to spot Matt and Dani. Matt was going ape on a couple unfortunate ninjas a little farther across the rooftop, and Dani was wrestling with a ninja just a few feet from me.

I racked a bullet into the chamber and fired, sending a bullet into the ninja atop Dani. The poor sap tumbled off her, rolling a few feet to the side, and Dani's head snapped up. But there was no time for small talk. My right eye caught movement and I looked that way. A ninja was barreling toward me. I turned, aimed, and fired. Just as I did, more gun shots sounded not too far behind me, and I twisted to see.

Frank had already taken out three ninjas and was marching for a fourth. Dani was up and firing arrows at the unsuspecting ninjas about to pounce on Matt. Only then did I realize he wasn't wearing his mask. _What did I miss?_ I didn't have time to dwell on it. A sword suddenly swung at me and I ducked, just barely missing it. I righted myself and slammed the butt of the shotgun into the side of the ninja's head, shoving his aside a foot.

I racked a bullet into the chamber and fired. The ninja shot back a few steps, getting too close to the edge, and he stumbled right off the side of the roof. I suddenly felt the urge to laugh, but I stifled it. I mean, I just blew the guy off the roof. It's like one of those stupid cartoons Chase watches—even though I tell him not to. I took a deep breath, turning to see the others. Dani was locked in a heated hand-to-hand with two ninjas.

Matt was struggling to get one down. And Frank was leaving a long trial of bodies across the roof. There wasn't much action over here on my side so I started for where it was. I blasted at least two ninjas off Matt's tail before they could clobber the poor guy. Dani just finished with her two ninjas as I arrived beside her. I couldn't quite read the expression on her face. But she was panting, out of breath, her eyes rounded.

"A shotgun? Who's idea was that?" she asked, exasperated.

I racked a bullet into the chamber. "Mine," I replied, like it was obvious. Just then, a ninja came running at Dani's backside. "Duck!" She dropped just as I raised the gun. I fired, and the ninja stopped, actually falling back a couple feet. Dani popped back up and loaded an arrow into her bow. "This is insane," she mumbled, aiming at a far off ninja to her left.

"You're telling me," I exhaled in a huff. She launched her arrow and immediately drew back again, this time with two arrows on the string. She let go of the arrows and lurched into a half-run toward two approaching ninjas. I only heard a sound a second before I turned around. A sword was coming at my face and I ducked with a sharp yelp. My face missed getting hit, but the blade sliced across my right upper arm.

I stifled a cry at the burning that spread across my skin, deep into the muscle, and raised my gun. It was awful timing. The ninja sent his foot into my wrist, sending the shotgun clattering to the floor, and he swung his blade lower. I hopped back a step just in time to miss it getting sliced across the stomach. It was nonstop. Once I'd dodged that, he swung again, this time at my head straight-on. So I tucked and rolled to the right.

It was farther away from the other, but I rolled less than a foot out of the way. As I turned on the ground to see the ninja, his sword was raised above his head, ready to end it. And then suddenly he was there no more. Blown back a few feet with the company of a gunshot. I quickly twisted to look up. Frank lowered his gun just as I did. A familiar sound came from not too far off and suddenly an arrow lodged itself in Frank's chest, right through the Kevlar.

The air in my lungs couldn't make it through my windpipe as he stumbled back a step, slightly disoriented by the hit. Then he dropped right along with my heart. I gasped. " _Frank_!" Shock was threatening to take over, and it took every ounce of strength I had to push myself up to my feet. I moved as fast as possible to close the distance between us and dropped to my knees beside him, sliding a bit. He looked to be struggling to breathe against the rod in his chest.

My hands were shaking, but I immediately checked for bleeding. "Frank? Hey- just hang in there, okay? We can fix this," I half-heartedly assured, nodding quickly.

He groaned as he readjusted his position slightly. His eyes shifted up, quickly finding mine. I couldn't read any fear in them. But they softened once they'd looked at mine. Probably because _I_ was afraid. Everything in me knew what this meant. And everything in me was telling me it wasn't going to happen. My head was fighting desperately to get my heart to see reason. But it wasn't working in the slightest.

"Alison…stop- stop that. You can't fix this," he reasoned, gently grabbed my wrist. That's when my eyes started to sting, blurring. My stomach twisted. I quickly shook my head as a dreadful emptiness started to settle in. He was right. I knew that. "Frank, I can't-" I had to stop myself as a small, strangled sob escaped me. I blinked hard to be able to see and it only caused more tears my eyes had gathered to roll down my cheeks.

"I can't lose you," I finished, trying hard to keep my voice from shaking—and failing to do so. I sniffled back another sob. "I won't, okay? Not again. Just stay with me… _please_." I was practically begging, taking his hand in both of mine and holding it tightly. He made to exhale but it came out a sputtering wheeze. My heart ached. Everything ached. "Tell your boy I'm not a bad guy, alright?"

"He probably still thinks we're getting married," a small chuckle bubbled up, but it was quickly dampened by more tears.

"Yeah…" he coughed hoarsely then wiped his lower lip, his finger visibly coming away with blood. "…maybe someday. If you still want me."

I bit my lip, trying to breathe. "I didn't think you planned on sticking around that long."

"And miss- miss out on calling you mine? N-not a chance."

A wave of bittersweet washed over me, only turning sour the words in my mouth. "Don't you know? Frank…I'm _already_ yours." His eyes softened at that, but then there was a flicker. His eyelids just barely closed for a fraction of a second. But it was enough to make my pulse skyrocket. "And…" he paused, his eyelids flickering again. Then he continued, "I'm _yours_?"

I nodded quickly, edging closer an inch, "Yes."

"Good…that's good…" His speak had slowed as his eyelids eased to a halfway position, threatening to fall completely—almost as if he was in a paused space between awake and asleep for a second. "Frank?" it came out sounding more like a whimper than anything else. I sat up more on my knees and slid my hands onto his cheeks, turning his face toward me. "Frank! Listen to me. What I was trying to say is the thing that matters to me the most…is _you_. I love you."

My eyes scanned his half closed eyelids. He seemed to be fighting it, only able to barely pull them up enough to be called _fully_ open. My eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His lips were moving, but no sound was managing to come out. It took me a short second to figure out what he was trying to say. _Kiss me_.

I didn't hesitate to lean down and press my lips to his. For a second, I felt him kiss me back. And then his muscles fell relaxed. I held on an extra second before pulling back a few inches from his face. His eyes had fallen completely closed and my hands were the only thing keeping his head upright now. My fingers scrambled to his neck for a pulse. Nothing. He was gone. I stared partially agape for a moment as it sunk in. _He was gone_.

Really gone this time. There was no coming back from this.

Even if he'd wanted to, there was nothing that could have been done. I knew that. He knew that. There was no denying it. I tried to stifle it as much as possible, but a sob racked my body. I leaned my forehead against his, squeezing my eyes tightly closed, willing it to all go away. If this is some crazy dream I would really like to wake up now. But it was real. And it felt like I'd just been hit but a truck.

"No, no…no," I pulled back, a sob forcing itself out that caused my whole body to lurch, shaking my head. "No… _please_ , God, no." Nothing I could say would change this. But I still pleaded, begged whoever was up there to turn it all around. Just make it some crazy prank. Any minute, Ashton Kootchar is going to jump out and tell me this was a lie. And I'll say I'll never forgive him, but eventually I do, and either way Frank would still be alive.

I sat back a little, letting him go.


	39. Phantom Hope

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I see Frank laying on the ground with Alison next to him. All I can think is that I hope he's not really dead. That wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to take the drug and we make it look like he's dead. He was never supposed to actually get hurt, to actually might be dead.

I slice the throat of the ninja I was fighting, now enraged and spite to get this over with. Mack and Daisy should be arriving at any minute. With any luck we won't need their help after all. I pushed the ninjas body away and then planted my foot into the stomach of another. He stumbled back giving me a chance to attack another one.

I'm surrounded. Fight four ninjas at once. I kicked and I punched, but none of it seemed to be working. It just seemed like, now, I was on defense. I ripped the sword out of one's hand, jamming the pommel into his face and then driving the sword straight forward into the next ninja. But for every one I killed, it seemed another took it's place.

I yanked my sword out and spun. I swung the sword at a ninja, preparing to decapitate it. But he ducked, moving so fast I didn't have time to react. He'd ducked and then drove his sword up. It pierced my suit and went into my flesh. I felt it enter the left side of my abdomen and then come out the other side near the base of my shoulder blade.

I merely sucked in a breath. It's hard to describe the pain I felt. It did hurt but not as you'd imagine. My hand instinctively grabbed the handle of the sword. Time slowed as I looked down at the blade still in me. I looked up at the owner of it, just as I felt another force against me, this one from behind.

I looked down and saw the front half of another sword going through me, dripping with my blood. This one went through the right side and came out on the front just beneath my bra line. All the air had left me and I felt my body try to go into panic mode, warning me of the danger my body was in. But there was nothing I could do to stop this.

My bow fell from my hand. The sound of it clattering to the ground sounded muffled, distant. The sword going through the front of me was pulled out. I sucked in a breath, wanting to scream and not knowing how to tell my body to. Blood droplets splattered the ground as the ninja stepped back.

A foot was put on my back as the sword behind me was yanked out. A muffled cry escaped me as I was pushed toward the ground. I hit the pavement, completely limp to stop myself. I closed my eyes and tried to control my breathing. This is it. I'm dying. I'm dead, there's no coming back from this. I'm going to die, and a stupid ninja is the cause. Figures.

I opened my eyes, feeling someone's touch. I was rolled onto my back, pain coursing through me. I closed my eyes, grinding my teeth against it. I felt an arm around the back of my head. I opened my eyes and found Matt. I looked him over, his cuts. He looked tired and worn. But concern was the thing screaming from every pore he had.

"Dani," he sighed with regret.

"I guess…history's going to repeat itself…until it gets it right," I said.

"No. No, this is not like last time."

"You're right. Last time…I didn't know…your name," it felt like my throat was constricting and my lungs felt heavier. "I didn't…know you. Last time…I didn't care about dying. I didn't want you…you to hear my heart stop." He huffed, trying to rein in his emotions. But he wasn't going to be able to stop the tears. "I love you…too much for that."

It was starting to get harder to breathe. I coughed, tasting blood in my mouth. "But…at least I'll die with you…in your arms."

"No, shhh. You're not gonna die, okay?" he said. And I wish it were true. I wish I had time to make things right. To say more. I closed my eyes, feeling them burn with tears. I am going to die. And he knows it. And he knows that I know that he knows it. I opened my eyes, a tear rolling down my cheek.

I looked down and found his hand. I used the last of my strength to move my right hand to his. My fingers only had to brush his before his quickly wrapped around mine. "Okay," I whispered. Even though we both knew it was a lie, we didn't care. It might be the last thing I ever do to him, lie. But I don't care. In this case…it's okay to lie.

Because it's not really a lie. It's hope. It's admitting that there is the slightest hope deep down that you'll walk away from this, that this won't be the last you'll ever see each other, the last moment you'll ever share. It's a phantom hope because few find it, and even fewer admit that it's there. It's a hope that, in all my close calls and brushes with death, I've only just now found.

I coughed hard, feeling a liquid rising up inside of me. "I love you," I blurted. His lip quivered as he held me tighter.

"I lov-"

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My everything felt numb. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't make my eyes leave Frank's closed eyelids. "ALISON! ALISON, I NEED YOU!" Matt's hollering voice cut through the thickness and my head snapped up. Then I saw it. Matt was on the ground, crouched with a limp-looking Dani in his arms. Oh no…no, no, no. "ALISON!"

I sniffled back what I could and pushed myself up to stand, then started for Matt. My whole body was shaking, hard, but I did my best not to fall flat on my face while moving as fast as humanly possible. I ran across the roof to them and dropped to my knees on the opposite side of Dani from Matt. "What happened?" I asked, my voice coming out soggy.

"She was stabbed, twice, she's bleeding-" He was talking quickly, but he paused himself, tilting his head. "Her lung is filling with blood—the right one." An odd sound caught my attention and I twisted to see behind me. Two people I didn't recognize came through the roof access door. A tall, dark skinned man and a shorter brunette woman that looked as young as me. "Somebody call for backup?" the girl asked.

They started for us in a mild jog. S.H.I.E.L.D. Thank goodness. "Yes- over here! Hurry," I turned back to Dani, throwing the words over my shoulder. "Anybody got a knife?" The two trotted over and skidded to a stop just to my left. "Here," the dark skinned man unsheathed a knife, then held it out to me. "What happened to her?"

I took the knife and slid the blade inside the already torn hole in Dani's suit, then started tearing as hard as I could. "She was stabbed," I grunted, getting the hole big enough. Once it was big enough, I pulled out the knife, and slid my fingers down Dani's ribcage, counting. My fingertips stopped between the right ribs and held position. "I need to cut her open, but I need some kind of tubing. Look around. _Hurry_."

The two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents split up and disappeared from my line of sight. "Do you know what you're doing?" Matt asked, his voice trembling just enough to be heard. What he was really asking was, can I trust you to fix it? I glanced up at him and nodded. "Found something!" the dark skinned man called, from not too far off.

I heard footsteps. "Will this work?"

The female agent handed me a two foot long stretch of heavy duty, mechanical grade tubing that looked like it was yanked right out of someone's generator. I nodded quickly. "Perfect. Who are you, by the way?" I asked, turning back to Dani. While they spoke, I used the knife to trim one end of the tube to make it pointed, sharper. "Daisy. That's Mack," the girl introduced, huffing a bit from the sprint.

"Great. Okay- Mack, I need you down here," I finished with the tube and Mack didn't waste time coming to kneel sidled next to me. "This is gonna sound gross, but you need to spread her ribs as far apart of you can, alright? Pull them hard and don't you dare let go."

He nodded, though not looking forward to it. "Got it."

I pressed the knife into Dani's side, between the third and fourth ribs, and made a long enough cut to make it work. "Keep her leaning toward me," I instructed, directing it toward Matt. He nodded a little, readjusting Dani in his arms to lean a bit. I used the back of my wrist to wipe water from my eyes as I sniffled hard. "Okay, Mack, hands."

He did as instructed and slid his hands just inside, then pulling. The sound alone would make an iron stomach turn. "Oh, gosh, that's disgusting," Daisy commented, taking a step back. "Why are you doing that?" When Mack had gotten them far enough apart, I quickly slipped my hands in. I used the sharp end of the tube and inserted it into the filling lung. Then I pulled my hand out and grabbed the outside section of the tube.

"Her lung is filling with blood and, if we don't get it out, she'll drown in it," I answered Daisy. Now here's the real gross part. I put my lips on the solid end of the tube and sucked. Dark red quickly slid into the lung's end of the tube, slowly traveling toward my mouth. I let go just in time before it could actually reach me. I aimed the tube off to the side as it began draining onto the cement of the roof. I reached up a hand and felt for a pulse.

It was faint, but it was there. "Matt?" I looked up. He paused, focused, listening. Then he sighed with a heavy relief and nodded, and I nodded in return. Footsteps caught all of our attentions. An older looking Asian man was near the end of the roof, watching. Anger started to drip into my veins at the sight of him. "Is that Nobu?" I asked, to no one really in particular.

"Yeah, that's him," Matt nodded, clenching his jaw.

"Hold this." I shoved the draining end of the tube into Mack's hand and he clambered to grab it before I stood. I walked around Daisy and started across the roof. Nobu was saying something, probably a taunt, telling me he'd won. But I didn't care. I wasn't listening. "How many times have they tried to kill you?" I marched up to him, hiked up my knee, and slammed my heel into his gut.

He stumbled back a few steps and I kept coming. I followed him closer to the edge of the roof. "One-" I twisted left and sent my heel into his temple, causing him to step back further. "-too-" I twisted right and slammed him again in the head with my boot. "-many!" He teetered on the edge of the roof, about to drop, and I grabbed his wrist, stopping him. I pushed in as I twisted it, pinning it to his back.

As he turned I kicked the back of his knee, dropping him on one side. I kept him so close to the edge that the breeze from the street below blew in his face. I leaned close enough to speak into his ear and lowered my voice, pure rage boiling in my blood. "How many times will it take _me_ to kill you?" I asked him, rhetorically. "Just _one_." I let go of his arm with a hard shove and he toppled forward, right off the edge. I stepped back.

I didn't want to see him hit the bottom. That's not something I needed in my head right then. But I heard the thud his body made on the concrete. Good. The monster deserved to die probably more than two lives ago. A loud whirling and a strong gust of wind caught my attention, and I whirled. A large, black plane landed on the other side of the roof. The engines cooled to a slow silence. But the side door was opening even before that.

Then I saw a familiar face—Coulson. My body flooded with as much relief as it could muster and I jogged back over to the others. Coulson brought along other agents, but I didn't really stop to ask names—or even pay attention to what they look like, in all honesty. My head was starting to hurt. "She still breathing?" he asked, arriving beside me and Matt.

"Yeah," Mack nodded, as I wrapped my arms around myself in a hug. Mostly because I was cold. But also because I needed to hold myself together. It felt like I was one breath away from my chest caving in. He tipped his head toward me in a gesture, "Thanks to her."

Coulson looked at me with mild surprise. "I wasn't aware you were a doctor, Miss Fletcher."

My heart sank as a thought came to mind. Neither did Frank. _You some kind of Doctor? Thought you were a waitress_. "You and everyone else," I mumbled. My voice didn't sound like my own. It sounded too worn, too weathered. Coulson turned to the others, "Let's get her on the plane. The faster we get her back to base, the higher her chances of surviving."

Mack and Matt started carefully lifting Dani. My eyes shifted just past them, focusing on the body lying on the concrete across the roof. I inhaled, "Give me a minute." I didn't wait for anyone to reply. I stepped around Mack and made my way over the yards of roof between us. He was still right where I left him—still, and completely unmoving. Easing my way down, I sat on my knees beside Frank's body.

And it all came rushing out. Tears were rolling fast down my cheeks, and I pressed the back of my hand to my lips to keep quiet, squeezing my eyes shut. The shaking never quite stopped. It only slowed just enough for me to help. But, sitting here again, the volume pushed all the way into a solid tremble. I'd truly lost everything. Once again, the man I love died right in front of me, and there wasn't anything I could've done to save him.

An arrow to the chest. A bullet to the chest. Straight shots, clean cuts—no way out. My stomach felt hollow and I struggled to breathe through the tampered sobs. "Alison," I jolted slightly at the sound of my name, twisting to look up. The blurring haze of my tears was almost too much to make out who stood beside me. But I saw enough to know it was May. "I'm so sorry." She knelt on the ground next to me and I turned back toward Frank.

I dropped my hand from my mouth and sucked in a shaky breath. "I…I don't- I don't know what to do. I can't leave him."

"You don't have to. We'll take his body with us, make arrangements once we get back to base," she replied, calmly. I looked up at her. She seemed like she was sorrowful, sympathetic, but even in the short time I spent with her I knew she never showed very much emotion as a general rule. I didn't know what to make of it. But I sniffled hard, wiping at my cheek. "Thank you," I nodded, feeling another sob coming.

She put a gentle hand on my shoulder. "The boys will get him on the plane. We need to go."

I looked back down at Frank. Something in my chest twisted. The pain was almost too much, but I leaned down and carefully touched my lips to his forehead. I let them stay there, linger a moment too long, before sitting up. May stood and I took that as a sign that I needed to get up as well. So I pushed myself up to stand on my wobbly legs, turning my back to Frank. I nodded once, "I'm ready."


	40. How to Save a Life

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

My cheeks were still wet, my eyes threatening to spill over with a sharp ache in my chest, but I pushed through. We arrived at wherever in the world S.H.I.E.L.D.'s base of operations was not too long after leaving the roof in Hell's Kitchen. On the way, I was in charge of making sure Dani didn't die. It'd be daunted to anyone else. But, thankfully for me, I knew what I was doing. My hands still pressed a rag to the incision in Dani's side when we got there.

"Get her to medical," Coulson said, as other agents filed in the parked plane. "Do it quick. Where's Simmons?" He went to talk to a tall, lanky, blonde agent by the entrance to the plane. Mack and Matt did most of the lifting as a couple other agents brought in a gurney of sorts. "Careful," I kept the rag pressed to Dani as they lifted her, then eased her onto the gurney. "Keep her on her side."

Mack stepped back but Matt stayed fairly close as we got moving, following us deeper into the building down a hall. "Can you tell us what happened to her?" one of the agents rolling the gurney asked. I couldn't tell if he was medical personnel or not but, guessing by his question, I assumed he was. "Two stab wounds—swords—one through the back and one through the chest," I explained, my voice shaking. "There's bleeding in the right lung, but that's all I know."

"Alright. We'll take it from here."

Another agent slid into my position to hold the rag as I reluctantly stepped back. They continued on as I stopped walking, Matt slowing to a hesitant stop beside me. I glanced up at him. Somehow he'd managed to get his mask back on before S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived without me noticing. When did that happen? Maybe _he's_ a ninja. My eyes shifted back to the hallway. They'd rolled out of sight now, around a corner. I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"She'll be fine," Matt said, mostly talking to himself. "She's come back from worse. You did good, Alison." I shrugged off his hand, sidestepping, and mildly glared at him. He adjusted his position with a head tilt, his face aimed in my direction. He was confused. Really? He doesn't know? "Don't," was all I could say. I turned and started back up the hallway. I was almost there. Just a couple more feet and I'd be back in the hanger, where Coulson was still talking to his team. And then it hit me.

 _This didn't feel like that. It felt like relief. It felt like home. I pulled back and rested my forehead against his. Immediately my lips longed for more, pleading. But I held it back as best as I could. I let my shoulders relax, keeping my eyes closed a moment longer. I inhaled to breathe him in. There was antiseptic and that infamous twang of hospital soap, but there was still an ounce of gun powder lingering on his skin._

" _No matter what happens after this," he started, causing me to finally open my eyes. His gaze was already locked on mine. I swallowed, and he continued, "I don't care what I have to do. I'm coming home to you." If you survive the trial. That thought brought tears up to brim my eyes, threatening to spill over vibrantly. Why did I have to think that? Sometimes I hate my brain._

 _I sniffled hard. "You better."_

Tears were falling before the memory even ended. But it didn't actually end. It just looped around and played again, refusing to let up, followed by a hundred other memories trapped inside my brain. My chest physically ached as my heart sank. It was a struggle to catch my breath. My feet couldn't go any farther, and I couldn't force them. I stopped mid hall as my knees started to buckle, causing me to drop.

I reached my hand out to catch myself before I fell. But it only stopped me for a second before I dropped the rest of the way, sitting on the floor. I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled my knees up to my chest as the tears turned into small sobs, absentmindedly rocking a bit.

" _Hey," he bent slightly, lowering to look me straight in the eye, and I swallowed. "Maybe all the choir boys you were with before broke your heart and left you with nothing, but you're not getting rid of me that easily. It's gonna take a lot more than one bad night." Now it was my turn to stare. My heart was aching. Did he really just say that? I took in a deep breath. Only then did I feel the sting at the corners of my eyes._

 _I hadn't even noticed when a stray tear felt the need to slide down my cheek. And it only prompted more to roll out at his words. All I could do was laugh. It was an incredibly odd mix of reactions but I didn't know what else to do—it just started happening. A smile eased its way onto Frank's lips, and his head tilted just slightly. "Somethin' funny?" he asked, curiously._

 _I sniffled hard, forcing myself to sober up as much as possible, and I gave a shake of my head. "I don't deserve you, Frank Castle."_

A strangled sob ripped its way up my throat that racked my whole body and I clapped a hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut. I was right about one thing—I didn't deserve him. And in the end, I couldn't keep him. I ran my hands back through my hair, sucking in a wheezing breath, only prompting my body to make me sob even more.

" _Are you in love with her or something?" I nearly spewed water across the table, as I was taking a drink when Chase said the most embarrassing thing he could have possibly dreamt up. But I quickly recovered—almost able to act like that didn't just happen. Frank chuckled. "Uh, I'm not sure I know that yet, kid," he answered._

" _Well, don't get any ideas," Chase crossed his arms firmly. "I still have the final word before you get married."_

" _Okay, okay—time out," I held up my hands, ready for it to end. I took a deep breath. "Let's stay in the shallow end, yeah? Chase, nobody's getting married."_

"Alison." I heard my name, a female voice attached to it, but I didn't recognize it.

" _Tell your boy I'm not a bad guy, alright?"_

" _He probably still thinks we're getting married," a small chuckle bubbled up, but it was quickly dampened by more tears._

" _Yeah…" he coughed hoarsely then wiped his lower lip, his finger visibly coming away with blood. "…maybe someday. If you still want me."_

 _I bit my lip, trying to breathe. "I didn't think you planned on sticking around that long."_

" _And miss- miss out on calling you mine? N-not a chance."_

 _A wave of bittersweet washed over me, only turning sour the words in my mouth. "Don't you know? Frank…I'm already yours." His eyes softened at that, but then there was a flicker. His eyelids just barely closed for a fraction of a second. But it was enough to make my pulse skyrocket. "And…" he paused, his eyelids flickering again. Then he continued, "I'm yours?"_

 _I nodded quickly, edging closer an inch, "Yes."_

"I'm so sorry." Each word sounded like it was coming through a tin can. I kept my eyes shut, but I felt a presence at my side, and a hand gently gripped my shoulder. Next thing I knew arms were around me and I leaned into the embrace, crying into whoever lost a bet and had to comfort me's shoulder. This was pathetic. Crying, wailing, sobbing on the floor in the middle of some hallway, holding onto someone I didn't even know like my life literally depended on it.

But there was nothing I could do to change this scenario. It just kept coming, and kept coming, and I don't know how long I spent sitting there. Eventually, my eyes ran so dry I couldn't even get water in them by blinking. Whatever poor sap was holding me remained quiet, letting me cry as much as I needed to. And I was thankful for that. Finally, I could make myself sit up. My neck felt incredibly stiff. But I got a good look at who helped me, and it was Daisy.

She gave a small, sympathetic smile, keeping an arm around me. "T-thank you," I nodded quickly, wiping at my cheeks, trying to rein it back in. She kept a hand running gently up and down my spine in a comforting motion. "Don't worry about it," she waved it away, semi-quietly. "You've been through a lot tonight. Trust me…we understand."

"How's Dani?" I sniffled.

"I don't know. Why don't we go check it out?" she suggested, tipping her head toward the hallway. I nodded a little and she stood, holding out a hand for me. I gratefully took the hand up—I probably would've been able to stand on my own anyway. Once I was standing, I felt sick to my stomach, a little light-headed. But I swallowed it down as best as I could and followed Daisy through the hallways to medical.

Coulson, May, and the blonde guy I saw Coulson talking to earlier were already there, along with two new faces. "How's she doing?" Daisy asked, as we entered the room. Coulson sighed heavily, turning to us with a shake of his head. "She's still in surgery. The doctors aren't sure if she even has a chance," he answered.

"You must be Alison Fletcher," one of the new faces, a shorter woman with reddish brown hair in a tight ponytail, spoke directly to me. Obviously trying to change the subject. I nodded once. "That's me," I replied, dryly. "And you are?"

"Jemma Simmons. This is Leo Fitz and Lincoln Campbell," she gestured to the other new face and the blonde guy in turn.

"I would say it's nice to meet you, but…" I took a deep breath, and suddenly had a thought. "Has anyone seen Ma- uh- Daredevil?"

May spoke up, nodding, "He was here a few minutes ago. Should be back soon." I wrapped my arms around myself absentmindedly, nodding a bit as I looked down, thinking. He must be a wreck. I wanted to feel bad for him, I really did. But I couldn't make myself. "Any changes?" Matt's voice filtered in from behind as he entered the room, and I twisted to see him. Still in full costume, he came to stand a few feet to my right.

"Not yet," Coulson said, sadly.

Matt nodded, turned his head more in my direction, and I inwardly braced myself. "Alison…can we talk?"

"About what?" I kept my eyes down, clenching my jaw.

"Alison…" he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I-"

My eyes snapped up. " _Don't_. You don't get to be sorry, _Daredevil_. You honestly think none of this is on you? Go on, tell me how it's not your fault." His jaw set, remaining quiet, his shoulders dropping. His silence only made my blood boil. In a sudden burst of anger, I shoved my hands into his chest, causing him to stumble back a step. "Come on! That's all you got? Where are the excuses?"

"Alison, please, I-"

I shoved him again, following him as he moved backward again. "None of this would have happened—none of it! But you just couldn't say no, could you? No, you had to go running around with the crimson whore behind Dani's back! Now look where we are— _look_!" He backed up far enough across the room that it was only a few feet from the wall. I gripped his suit and pushed him back into it, pinning him.

He didn't make any moves to stop me or get out of it. He seemed too resigned, and it only spurred on my anger. "If you had never made that mistake, Dani wouldn't be in surgery right now, fighting for her life!" I continued, throwing it in his face. "Frank would still be alive right now! He would. And you know what? We would be _happy_. And I know how much _that_ makes you mad!"

"Alright, that's enough," I heard May's voice from behind, but I ignored it.

"You took _everything_ from me," tears started down my cheeks again, but I did my best to keep my voice steady. Instead, it came out sounded like a wounded walrus. Matt's lower lip was starting to quiver, breathing unsteadily. He was on the verge of his own sob-laden breakdown. I kept going, lowering my voice to not be heard for this part, "I am _done_ with you, Matt Murdock. You hear me?"

Arms encircled me from behind. "That's enough," May said. "Alison, let him go." She pulled me away, and I let her, but that didn't stop me from adding one last jab to my never ending ensemble of hatred. "You're dead to me," I finished. May let go of me but only when we were at least two yards from Matt. Matt stepped away from the wall, but otherwise he stayed put.

Suddenly my stomach felt sick and I didn't say anything, just hurried out of the room.

I found the nearest available bathroom, throwing open the stall door, and wretched up anything that could've possible been in my stomach. I couldn't even remember what in the world the last thing I ate was. Probably nothing worth keeping anyway. Once I was done, I sat on the floor of the stall, my back falling into the metal dividing wall. I buried my face in my knee caps. The same thought that went through my mind when all of this started came through once again.

 _What have I done?_

This whole thing could've been avoided, I suppose. And not just because of Matt. But because of _me_. If I could've stopped myself, held it together, maybe—just maybe—I never would've loved him, and it never would've ended. _What am I saying? Of course it was all worth it. Wasn't it?_ I couldn't tell anymore. Nor did I want to. I wanted to wish it all away. I wanted to wake up. But that wasn't possible.

I leaned the side of my head into the wall behind me, closing my eyes. They were so tired and worn from all of the crying. Just when you think you can't cry anymore, you cry even harder than the last time. It felt like eternities had passed, sitting there on the floor, before I heard the bathroom door creak open. "Alison?" It was a woman's voice, but I didn't know whose.

Either way I didn't care. I didn't want to know.

I heard footsteps, and then the whining of hinges from what sounded like a few doors down. "We've been looking everywhere for you," the woman continued, gently, hopeful. Another set of hinges protested, sounding a bit closer than the last. "I know you're hurting. But you shouldn't be alone right now." Yet another hinge screamed, the door to the stall next to mine opening.

Then the door to my stall swung open, the door just barely missing me. I heard a sigh. "Alison…"

"Don't… _please_ …just don't," I pleaded, the lump in my throat growing just from moving again. "I need a minute."

"A minute? It's been three _hours_." I lolled my head further right, into the wall, resting my chin on my shoulder. Whoever it was standing in the doorway of the door exhaled and I heard a scuffling. I side-glanced left. A blonde woman I didn't recognize was now sitting cross-legged on the floor opposite me. Her expression was knowing, but still sympathetic. "Look, I didn't come to drag you back."

I lifted my head, inwardly annoyed. " _Then why are you here?_ "

"Brought this," she held up a silver flask with a small smirk. "Figured it'd help more than talking."

I glanced down at the flask, then back up at her, and then I took the bottle. You don't have to tempt me into it. I knew I needed a drink even before the roof. My fingers unscrewed the cap and I took a long pull from the small container. I only stopped to come up for air. I gasped in a breath as the strong liquor burned my throat. "I like you," I coughed a little, then squinted at the flask. "Is this even yours?"

She gave a shake of her head, "It's Hunter's. He won't miss it—at least, not for a little while. I'm Bobbi."

"Cheers." I jutted up the flask in a gesture and took another pull. I would introduce myself, but she already knew my name. What would be the point? "That doesn't look so good," she said, leaning left a bit to see my right side, the side pressed into the wall. I glance down as she finished, "Have you been checked out yet?"

Oh yeah. I almost forgot. One of the ninjas cut my upper arm, right through my angel jacket. Blood stained the leather now. I shook my head weakly. "I'm not going back there," I answered. She sat back a little with a slow nod. She visibly inhaled, sitting upright. "Right…Simmons told me about what happened," she said.

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, Gossip Girl. So, lemme guess—you know everything about me now, right?"

"No," she shook her head, speaking gently, before tilting it to the side as she looked at me. "I don't know _anything_ about you. Actually, the only thing I know is that you lost someone you loved. I've been there. But I don't know _you_ , I don't know how _you_ feel—so tell me. _You_ tell _me_ , Alison." I didn't say anything, I didn't move. I just stared at her for a long moment. And she stared right back, waiting.

My eyes shifted to the floor and I swallowed. No one's ever really cared. It's always someone else telling me how I feel, how I _should_ feel—and then labeling me when I don't. I inhaled, then exhaled, the breath coming out like a rushing river. "It hurts…a lot…you know, the funny thing is, this never should've happened," I shook my head, looking up at her. "I mean, who is stupid enough to fall in love with a mass murderer?"

She chuckled a little, straightening, but she didn't interrupt. Just listened. "I guess _I_ am. I fell in love with the bad guy once…he's dead, too. But this didn't feel like that, you know? This didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel… _bad_. It was the first thing in my life that actually felt right, like…like it was _supposed_ to happen," I continued, quietly. I sniffled, wiping at my eye. "But I guess it wasn't. It was just like before. I…I love them, and then they die- they always…die. I don't understand why _I_ keep getting to live. Why _me_ , and not _them_?

"I lost James, I lost Ben, I lost…I lost _Mary_ , and I lost Karen and now…now Frank's gone, too. What do you do? What do you do when everyone you've ever loved is either dead or has let you down? Who do you trust? The only person left I could see trusting is probably gonna die, too. So, either way you look at it, I'm hosed. I have Chase—but he's just a kid. He shouldn't…he shouldn't have to deal with any of this. Everything I've ever done was to protect him, to give him the best life possible-"

"And you finally did something for yourself, and it blew up in your face," she finished, quietly. My eyes flickered up to her and I nodded, before dropping my head back into the wall. Tears were brimming my eyelids, threatening to spill over and cause another embarrassing incident. "I never…I never wanted any of this to happen," I shook my head quickly, sniffling to keep it in.

"But it did, Alison. It did happen. Now you have to live with it."

"H-how? How do I do that, Bobbi?" I questioned, hopelessly.

"Well…you could start by forgiving yourself. _None_ of this was your fault," she shook her head, confidently. Her eyes refused to leave mine. "You have to believe that—because it's the truth. Hold onto it like it's all you have. You loved him. Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't do it all again."

I bit my lip and looked away, and she sighed. She won. I could toy with the idea in my head all I wanted but, when it came down to it, I couldn't say no. There was no way I would ever not have helped Frank Castle, and there is no universe where I didn't fall completely, madly in love with him. Maybe there's a universe out there where he didn't die? Maybe there's a chance for us somewhere out there. I'll never really know. But it's nice to think about.

Bobbi sat with me for at least another hour. Then she was finally able to coax me off the floor and out of the bathroom. We went back to medical and, thankfully, Matt was out at the moment. I dropped on an ottoman across the room from the sleep-deprived group of proverbial zombies waiting to hear about Dani. And that's where I stayed. I don't know for how long. It seemed like the one thing this place lacked was a clock.

I probably wouldn't read it even if it was there. Eventually, somewhere along the endless minutes I spent sitting in the same place, I dozed off. Next thing I knew, someone was shaking me, saying Dani was out of surgery. I made to get up. I truly did. But I was too tired, and I fell back asleep the moment Simmons left my side. Next, it's morning.

I only know because I was greeted with a, "Good morning," from that tall lanky guy whose name escapes me.

I groaned, pulling myself up to sit. When did I lie down? _Don't bother even trying to answer that_. "It's morning…not so sure it's _good_ ," I replied, tiredly, dropping my legs off the side of the ottoman. I glanced up at him, squinting from the bright light overhead. "Who are you again?"

The guy huffed a chuckle. "Lincoln. I brought you some coffee."

Suddenly a steaming mug was being shoved in my face and my head recoiled an inch, squinting harder to see straight. "Thanks," I mumbled, taking the mug. I hesitantly took a sip, and only then did I notice the sharp ach at the base of my skull, the tug in a muscle in the side of my ribs, and the stinging from the cut on my upper arm. I hissed and readjusted my position. "Mind if I sit?" Lincoln asked, gesturing with a hand.

I sighed. "Knock yourself out."

He sat about a foot to my right as I tried taking another drink. Not as good as the coffee from the café, but it'll do. That thought drudged up a whole other set of emotions, and I inwardly cursed my idiotic brain. "How's Dani?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the mug in my hands. The next phrase sounded a little more hopeful than I felt. "Did she make it?"

"Yeah, she made it. She had to have a second surgery but…she's hanging in there. I actually wanted to ask how _you_ were doing…"

"Thanks, Ken, but I'm fine."

He chuckled at the nickname. "You don't _look_ fine-"

"Stop, please," I turned my head to see him and his expression sobered. I sighed. "Look, I appreciate it, I really do…but nothing you could ever do or say is going to make me feel better after the night I've had. The only thing you can do for me is point me toward the shower in this gin joint."

"Our shower?"

I exhaled. "Yes, your _shower_."

 _Am I still speaking English?_ Evil Alison wanted to spit it at him. But the real me somewhere in there knew he was just trying to be nice, so I let it go, mostly for his benefit. He nodded. "Uh, yeah, sure," he agreed, finally. "Follow me." He stood and I followed suit—only finding more stiff and pulled muscles—and he lead the way into the hall. We didn't go too incredibly far. I only counted four corners and a long empty hallway before we arrived.

Lincoln went in first, flicking on the lights. The room wasn't too small. It was actually on the larger side. It was one of those high school style shower rooms where there's one long hallway down the middle of separate shower 'rooms' on either side. "I'll see if I can find you some new clothes," he said, turning for the door. Before I could reply, he stopped and turned back to me. "And you might wanna get that looked at."

He pointed lightly at my upper arm, then turned and zipped out of the room. The door swung shut behind him and I let out a deep breath. There was a long running counter on the left wall before it hit the showers, with mirrors and the occasional sink. I stepped over to the nearest mirror and turned sideways to see. The gash in my upper arm looked red and raw. And it seemed a bit deeper than I originally thought. It definitely needed stitches.

Pretty much my whole sleeve was now a dark murky blue instead of the bright color it used to be. Thinking about it made my stomach sick, so I took it off, draping the jacket on the counter. It caused a twinge in my arm and I hissed, gripping the counter. _Come on, Alison. Buck up_. I promised myself I'd be there for Chase. I can't do that moping and whining in a S.H.I.E.L.D. bathroom.

So I gritted my teeth and shuffled into one of the shower stalls.

I ached. Everywhere. It was like my whole body was bruised like a piece of old fruit. And while the warm water was soothing, it was also painful thanks to that. I didn't spend any second longer in there than I had to. I shut the water off and pulled a towel around my middle, then shuffled back out to the counter.

Somewhere during my shower, Lincoln must have come back, because there was a neatly folded stack of clothes by the sink closest the showers. I looked at them halfheartedly, but I was more concerned with what was in the mirror. My face looked awful. Red, puffy eyes with a nice shade of sleep-deprived. Not to mention bruises that were turning yellow on my jaw, a light red mark from being slapped, and my lower lip was thrashed of my own doing.

I looked like some kind of strung out druggie. That's great. I sighed and sifted through the clothes. They were all at least one size too big—if not more than that give or take a size—but something fit for both top and bottom—jeans and a black mid-sleeve shirt with a neckline that traced just below my collar bones. I dried my hair and pulled it up into a loose, haphazard ponytail. There was nothing I could do about my face.

Most of me didn't care, but the old Alison in me was heavily bothered. Oh well. _I'll manage_. I did what I could with my hair but, if I was being honest with myself, I wasn't really trying. And then I grabbed my jacket, tried to remember which way was to medical, and started heading that way. Halfway down the first hallway, I heard a lone, "Alison," from behind.

I twisted, only to find Coulson was walking a little fast to fall into step with me. I sighed. "What can I do for you, Agent Coulson?" I asked, tiredly. I was too drained to bother trying to act like I was okay. Even if I did, his team all know already that I'm not thanks to my own actions. "Actually, it's what _I_ can do for _you_ ," he replied, causing me to raise an eyebrow. "We're going to arrange a service for Castle."

"Oh…you really don't have to do that-" I shook my head.

He interrupted, "Nonsense. Dani is family here at S.H.I.E.L.D. With all you've done for her, that makes you family, too. Speaking of which, does Castle have any family we should notify?" I wound my arms loosely around myself, letting a slow, deliberate exhale through my nose. I gave a shake of my head. "There's no one. It's just me," I answered.

"I see," he seemed sympathetic, but I really couldn't gauge _anything_ about the man. "Well, we'll give him the service he deserves."

I nodded, running my hand up and down my arm. "Thank you."

Just then, we arrived in medical. The only ones there were Matt—draped across the ottoman, presumably asleep—Bobbi, Daisy, Lincoln, and Mack. "How is she doing?" Coulson asked the small group, to no one in particular. They didn't look like a lively crew. Probably all just as sleep deprived as me. Daisy sighed, nodding. "Holding steady," she replied, with a hopeful undertone. "She's a fighter."

 _You have no idea_. Coulson and I stopped a foot from the group. I glanced over at Matt. He was still dressed completely as Daredevil, an arm draped across his eyes as he lay on his back, unmoving and quiet. I sighed and looked back at the group. "Is there a sewing kit I could borrow?" I asked, throwing the question out there.

"Oh, sure," Bobbi zipped to a tall dresser-like row of cabinets. She pulled open one, rummaged a second, then closed it. As she walked back over to me, she held out a small clear pouch. "Here you go. Want a spotter?" I took the pouch and nodded once with a half-shrug. She nodded in return and followed me to another ottoman, on the opposite side of the room as Matt.

I sat and she sat beside me, and I unzipped the pouch. "How are you?" she asked. Just my eyes looked up to see her, and she nodded, pursing her lips. "Right…dumb question." I sighed and started threading a needle. My hands were shaking—when are they ever not?—making it a bit hard to get the thread in there, but I managed alright. "Are you a doctor?" Bobbi asked. It was half curious, and half just-trying-to-avoid-silence.

I shook my head and rolled my sleeve up slightly. "No, I just do this on the side. My mom was the doctor- well, she never _actually_ finished medical school—thanks to a certain brown haired, blue eyed idiot—but she learned enough to keep herself afloat."

She chuckled a little at the jab I made at myself, and then furrowed her brow. "Don't you want something to dull the pain?"

"I'm good," I lied, gritting my teeth as I slid the needle through my skin. "Don't worry—I've done this before."

"Oh, really? I'd love to hear _that_ story," she commented, sarcastically.

I shook my head, clipping off the first stitch while Bobbi held the string. "Yeah, you really wouldn't. I was shot. Thankfully for me, I kept a kit in my car—otherwise, I'd be toast. But I passed out just after I patched myself up. It was embarrassing."

"It actually sounds more painful than anything."

I widened my eyes in an expression of agreeance, and started the next stitch. The process was repetitive. Thread in the stitch while Bobbi makes sure the line is straight, secure it, then give Bobbi the thread and use the scissors in the pouch to clip off the excess thread. It only needed a couple small stitches—thankfully.

Then it was a small gauze patch and medical tape to hold it there, and I was done. I thanked Bobbi for the help and she went to put the kit away. Just then, Simmons walked into the room. I stood to stop her before she could pass and she raised an eyebrow lightly at me. "Could you tell Dani something for me, when she wakes up?"

"You're not going to be here?" she asked, tentatively.

I shook my head. "No, um…I need to get home to my son. But, could you tell her to check in every now and then when she's out saving the world?"

"Of course," she nodded crisply. "Will you be needing transport home?"

I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off by Coulson stepping over and beating me to it. "Don't worry, Simmons. I'll have May take her home," he assured. She nodded and stepped around us to join the others a few feet behind Coulson. I turned to him, "Thank you."

He shook his head with a mild, closed-mouthed smile. "Don't thank me. Your son's been home alone for over forty-eight hours."


	41. Out of the Woods

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I opened my eyes to the soft beep of machines. I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it. I'm supposed to be dead. Aren't I? How did I survive that? My eyes swept the room, taking it in. I instantly recognized it as the med bay at Coulson's S.H.I.E.L.D. base. Agent Simmons stood in the far right corner of the room. She seemed to be going over some papers.

She glanced up from her clip board at looked at me, then did a double take. She smiled and walked closer. "How do you feel?" she asked in a soft voice, laced with her accent. I don't know really how to answer. Right now I don't feel much, but I'm sure that's because she's pumped me full of drugs.

I licked my lips and then looked up at her. The thought of talking seemed beyond my grasp. Almost like I've forgotten how. I closed my eyes and sighed, then I opened them and gave it my best shot. "Fine." It came out a whisper with no depth. Her eyes softened and she gave a sympathetic look. "What…"

I breathed in shallow breathes. My chest didn't feel like it was even able to expand so I could take a full sized breathed. But when I did breathe, I felt bandages around my whole torso grow tighter at the action. If I tried to breathe past the bandages' resistance, I was met with a sharp pain. One I couldn't locate no matter how hard I tried.

"What…happened?" I breathed air in with the first word and then blew it out with the second.

"Do you…" she looked at me curiously, "not remember what happened on the roof?"

"No…I do. After that."

She nodded. "You were barely alive when Coulson showed up with the jet. What Alison did kept you a live long enough to get you here. But you still weren't out of the woods," she explained. "You were in surgery for ten hours. Two hours later and you went in for your second surgery. The first forty eight hours was a lot of near misses."

"How long…was I out?"

"You were stabbed four days ago." Her words shocked me, but not a lot. I know how long it can take sometimes when you're hurt that bad. "The sword that pierced your left side, missed your lung by a quarter of an inch. The one on your right, damaged your lung beyond repair. We had tried fixing it, the first time, but it didn't hold. So we went back in and replaced it. Even with all that, you're going to need at least two more surgeries for your lung and the other organs that were damaged. And lots of muscle rehabilitation."

I sighed. "Thank you." She nodded. "What happened…to the others?"

"Both Alison and…Daredevil, came with you. Alison was still tending to you when you arrived," she said. "She was very distraught from Mr. Castle's passing. But she left once we knew you were going to make it. She said she needed to get back to her son." I nodded, remembering that I had locked Chase in the bathroom. Poor kid. "She told me to tell you to come and visit every once in a while, when you're not saving the world."

Sounds like she's written me off. Great. Oh, well. I don't blame her, after all of this. I'm surprised she still wants to see me at all. "And Daredevil?" I was almost afraid to ask.

She nodded. "He's been an emotional wreck, since he got here. He'd spent every waking moment by your side." She chuckled. "He must've asked me a million times how you were doing. It was starting to drive me crazy."

"Where is he, now?"

"He's still here. I was finally able to convince him to get some sleep. He'd been awake for at least forty eight hours, that I saw. But I had to promise to tell him as soon as you were awake. Which I better do." She turned toward the door.

"Jemma," I said. She stopped and looked at me. "What about the other thing?"

"It's just fine," she nodded with a smile. I smiled as she turned and left. I laid my head back and sighed. It was only about ten minutes before she returned, Matt in tow. He was still wearing his suit, but his mask was off. And since she's been calling him Daredevil, my guess is that he hasn't said his name to anyone. But it won't take long for them to find out. I'm sure Daisy already knows.

Matt walked in the room and then Jemma vanished down the hall. He listened to her leave before walking toward me. He looked terrible. Like he was the one who was stabbed and had a lung replaced. He walked to the side of the bed and then slowly sat in the chair next to the bed. "D-Dani?" he sounded nervous and on the verge of tears. Something tells me he's been doing a lot of that.

"Matt," I croaked. My throat was dry and my chest was starting to hurt. He looked down, exhaling an unsteady breath. I moved my left arm so it dangled off the bed at the elbow, hand outstretched toward him. He looked up at me and took my hand, bringing it back onto the bed. I felt his thumb rubbing the back of my hand.

"I'm sorry," he said. "This is all my fault."

I sighed, "Matt-"

"Don't try to tell me it's not." I closed my mouth and stared at him. "We both know it is." He sighed and dropped his head. "Had I not gotten involved with…with Elektra again," he looked at me, "none of this would've happened."

"You don't know that. Okay? Ward was going to happen. My brother was going to happen. Alison and The Punisher, that was going to happen no matter what we did. The Hand…that probably would've happened, too."

"Yeah, but I should've been there. With you, with Ward…your brother. I should've _stayed_ with you. We should've gone through all of that together," he said. "Elektra or not…I should've been there for you, _with_ you. Because _you're_ the one I love. Which is why this is so difficult."

"What?"

"Because I chose Elektra. When I was with you, I chose her. And then I decided to save Stick, and you nearly died. I decided to continue helping Elektra and Stick. I decided to go after The Hand." He paused and sighed, out of breath. "Elektra…Frank…they're both dead, and I nearly lost you. Jemma said that your heart stopped twice."

I exhaled slowly, taking it in. "And this isn't the first time that my decisions have gotten you hurt," he continued. "Last year, you were always getting hurt because of choices I made. With the Russians, Nobu, Fisk. Almost every night you got hurt."

"So, did you."

"I know, but-" he sighed. He glanced around the room, then looked back at me. "You're right. There are lots of things about you, about this place, that I don't understand. The things I've heard since I got here have made me realize that. And there are good people here. What they do…it's important."

"Matt, what…what are you saying?"

"I'm saying you should stay. Once you're healed."

I mouth slightly hung open. "Why would I do that?"

"Because this is where you belong. Not out there on the streets with me."

"I'll get hurt either way-"

"Dani-"

"No. What are you doing, Matt? After everything…" I huffed, trying to calm myself down. "After everything you've put me through, _this_ is how you want to end it?"

"See, that's just it. What I did to you should never have happened. And who's to say it won't happen again?"

"You. Matt, you. Okay? You don't seem to get it. You know, now, what you've done or what you think you've done," I said. "Which is good. But now instead…instead of taking responsibility for it, you're going to…to push me away, so you can't possibly mess up again."

"What would you have me do? Huh? You don't even know if you want to stay in Hell's Kitchen after everything that's happened."

"After all of this…you still can't seem to understand that sometimes these things happen and it's no one's fault," I said. "Have you even stopped and asked yourself why I stayed with you? It wasn't because of you…. And, after everything, I'm surprised you still think so highly of yourself to think this was all because of you. Matt, no one can every make their own decisions. It can never be their fault. You wanna know why? Because Matt Murdock's going to sweep in with his holier than thou condemnation and take all the blame.

"The world always has to be on your shoulders. No one can ever bare that burden. I have had a lot of time to think about our relationship since you left me. And all I can think is how…I should've left you sooner. I've always been second to you when we should be partners. I've been the second wheel, the last one you feel inclined to share information with, the one sidelined on missions because you want to 'protect me'. The only way that's going to happen is if you keep me in a cage.

"I've spent my whole life protecting myself. And when you swept in wanting to do it for me, at first that's all I wanted. But I realized somewhere that that was a dream. I realized that you are everything I wanted and don't deserve. I was getting hurt, not because of you but because of me. Because loving you made me soft. It made me reliant on someone else. So when you weren't there I got my butt kicked. Even when I was with S.H.I.E.L.D. I still got beat because you weren't there. That's how dependant I became on you.

"And, had you not walked away I probably never would've seen it." I sighed. My chest was burning and I felt out of breath. "But don't you dare take that away from me. Every arrow I've shot, every mission, every person saved, every decision made was me. All me. Loving you, that was me. My fault. And, I still love you. And after all this I was planning on leaving to find Ward. But I was planning on coming back. Now I'm not so sure. I need a reason to come back, a reason to stay in Hell's Kitchen. I thought that'd be you. I was perfectly fine trying again, and I thought you were too. But I guess I was wrong."

I stared at him as he looked down. "Congratulations, Matt. I will give you credit for one thing and that's ruining this relationship. So I'll stay, where I'm 'safe'. Now you can go back to being alone. Pretend like you never knew me. Might as well. Because what's the point of loving someone…if they're not there to love?" He opened his mouth to speak but no words came. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "I don't regret loving you, Matt, and I wish it could go on. But, clearly, you have some things you need to work out before that's possible.

"And, I have some…unfinished business, that can't be done when I'm with you. Ward will pay for what he's done to Mary, Bobbie, and countless others. I don't care how far I have to go to find him." I took a few breathes trying to even them out. Matt sat back, clearly deep in thought. Along with looking tired and worn, now he looked hurt. But it was a justified hurt, like he felt he deserved it. Like he wanted me to push him away. And maybe he did, I don't care anymore. "Look, I don't care where you go or what you do. But…don't ever cross that line. Don't become Frank and don't become me."

He slightly nodded, seeming to not be paying attention. "I'm sorry, Dani, I-" he stopped, slightly readjusting in his seat. "I didn't want any of this. I didn't want it to end, especially not like this."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too."

He stood and paused. His hand was still holding mine. I felt his thumb rub the back of my hand and then it stopped. He took a step away and time seemed to slow. I let my hand go limp in his. He turned away, moving toward the door. For a split second, I started questioning my decision. Questioning whether I was right to let him go. And then I remembered…he was letting me go.

My hand finally slipped out of his, a cold sensation hitting my fingertips as I sat my hand on the bed. I watched his back as he left. He walked out the door and didn't turn back. And just like that, he was gone. The last year of my life just walked out the door. And I let it. The man I love is gone. And I watched him leave. I basically told him to go.

I laid my head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling. My body wanted to cry, but I didn't want it to. There was no reason to. We'd been broken up for a while now, a part for longer. But, now, it's official. Matt and I are done. Which means, besides Alison and Foggy, there's no reason for me to return to Hell's Kitchen.

Maybe I should just stay with S.H.I.E.L.D., join Coulson. I'm sure he'd be happy to have me. But would I be happy to have him? No. I want to be at Dylan Investigations. I want to be a PI, that's the reason I bit the bullet and moved back to Hell's Kitchen. I wanted to turn the place where all my pain started into something that took it all away.

And it did. For a while. But I found a new reason to run from that city. Funny. I left S.H.I.E.L.D. and moved to Hell's Kitchen for a fresh start, to be with what remained of my family. And, now, here I am. Running from the city with only my niece. She and I are all that's left of the Dylan family, the one Andy and I made. But I won't lose her like I did the others. If anything at all, after everything I've been through since Andy died, she's going to be what keeps me going. She's going to be the good that came out of this. She's going to be my fresh start.

 **Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

I exhaled, swiping a hair from my face a tucking it behind my ear, before sliding my hand back into my coat pocket. It was too cold. Too cold for today. My eyes flicked up and I read the name on the headstone beside Father Lantom. _Karen Page_. It seemed too unreal. Karen was dead, and there was no bringing her back. I glanced over at her family—her parents. Listening to the words that were being said was becoming an afterthought.

I felt like I should do something, should say something, but I didn't have the heart. I mean, I watched Karen die right in front of me. I don't really think her family needs to know any of the details surrounding her death. It was a tragedy—a random act of evil that no one could possibly explain. And that's all it was. Foggy stood directly to my right. He seemed to be just about as depressed as I was.

But we barely said anything to each other when we arrived. What do you say? Foggy spent a little more time with Karen than I did, he knew her better, cared about her more. He'd spent almost every day with her at the office for the better half of a year. I can't really say the same. After Father Lantom finished speaking, everyone moved up to the casket one-by-one to lay flowers. Single lilies in full bloom.

How ironic. Lanky, pale, and indescribably beautiful. They matched Karen in every way. I looked up as I felt a hand touch my right arm. "You wanna go?" he asked, tipping his head toward the fading line of casket-goers. I nodded and he dropped his hand. I slipped my arm around his, locking them, and took a deep breath. "Come on," I said, tugging lightly on his arm.

He seemed reluctant to go up at all. Probably because he was having the same inward battle with reality that I was. Knowing someone is gone forever and grasping the concept you'll never see them again are two very different things. After a second's pause, he nodded and moved with me up to the casket. It was a beautiful, polished ivory. We sidled up to it and I bent, carefully placing my lily with the others on the black wood.

As I stood, I turned a little to see Foggy. He wore a pained expression and his eyes were stuck on the center of the casket. It was like he was frozen. "Foggy," he jolted slightly at the sound of my voice, slowly looking at me. Tears welled in my eyes at the thought, but I swallowed it down, nodding. "It's time."

He exhaled, nodding a little, and turned back to the casket. He bent to place his lily and I looked up, to the left, anywhere but directly at it. My eyes were becoming too full to see. I'd been doing everything in my willpower to save the tears for later. To be the strong one. I even talked myself up this morning in the mirror. But none of it was lasting as long as I'd hoped. A moment later and Foggy stood.

He turned to face me with a sigh. I sniffled back the haze, swallowed the lump in my throat, and turned my head to face him. "You good?" I asked, my voice practically all nasal.

He nodded. "Let's go."

I nodded back once and turned, starting for the cars along with the rest of the guests. Foggy fell into step with me in my slow pace, sticking to my side for a few strides before speaking. "Hey, uh…" he paused himself a moment, and I braced myself. "How are you doing? I mean, realistically." I exhaled. Realistically? Not so good. Okay, not good at all.

I glanced at him. "I'm somewhere in between maybe-there's-still-hope-for-the-world and I'm-never-going-to-recover."

"Yeah…seems to be going around-" Foggy's sentence cut off when he looked straight forward, and he sighed heavily. "Well, look at what the cat dragged in." My eyebrows knitted together and I looked dead ahead. Matt stood at the edge of the grass by the road, one of the last people still lingering around. As we neared him, going to pass him in our trajectory, Matt opened his mouth.

Foggy held up a hand. "Don't wanna hear it, Murdock," he shook his head, walking right past him. I let go of Foggy's arm and slowed to a stop just before Matt while Foggy kept going. Matt's mouth snapped shut and he exhaled through his nose. I squinted to see straight in the sudden incoming sunlight. He didn't say anything for a long moment. Just when I was starting to wonder if he ever would, he opened his mouth.

"Are you going to yell at me?"

"That's entirely up to you," I answered, slipping my hands in my pockets. "You came here for Karen, I get it. But I don't wanna talk to you."

"I know, and I won't keep you, I just…I just wanted to explain something. I know what I did. The wrong and the right—I know all of it. I'm not going to make excuses because, honestly, there isn't one. What I've done, how I've acted…everything hurt you and I'm genuinely…sorry, Alison. I'm sorry that any of this happened," he vented. At the end, he exhaled, like he was holding his breath during the speech.

I eyed him a quiet moment, mulling over the words. "Noted. Acceptance pending."

"I'll take it," he nodded once.

"Hey, Fletcher! The sooner we leave, the more drinks I'm buyin'!" Foggy shouted, standing half in and half out of the passenger side of my car. "Come on, let's go!" I sighed and started for the car. Foggy was flagging me down, like I couldn't already see him. I swatted at him though I was at least three yards away still. "Will you get down? Gosh, you're such a child," I admonished.

I skirted around the front of the car to the driver's side and yanked open the door. Foggy pulled himself back into the door and shut his door, and I slid in behind the wheel and closed my door. He suddenly said, "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?" I scoffed, starting the engine.

"It gave you an excuse to stop talking to Matt, didn't it?"


	42. Forgiveness

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

Seems like just yesterday I was standing in this exact same position, tuning out Father Lantom's words, staring at the letters chiseled into stone. But this time I was alone. No guests to feel embarrassed about crying in front of. It's not like I ever stopped anyway. But this time…this time the words in the stone read differently. _Frank Castle_. An exhale pulled me from my trance like state.

I swiped a tear out from underneath my eye. All it did was leave a smear where another took its place. But at least I felt like I tried. My eyes shifted up. Father Lantom looked solemn, holding his Bible in his crossed hands. "Alison…do you have any words you'd like to share?"

 _Share? With who?_ I quickly shook my head. "Alright then," he nodded a little, watching me. "That's all I've got. I could read some scripture, if you'd like?"

"No, no, um…it's okay. I don't think he was very religious." I waved away the offer with a shake of my head, trying to be polite about it. He started toward me, where I stood at the end of the grave. "That's funny. I remember you telling me something like that about yourself when we met at Ben Urich's funeral last year," he recounted, lightheartedly. He came to stand beside me, turning to face the grave.

"Because it was true," I replied, sniffling.

He turned toward me just a bit. "And now?"

"I'm not sure what I believe anymore," I shook my head, casting my eyes down. "Or that I would even be allowed to step foot in a church after what I've done."

He all but scoffed, voicing his opinion on the sentence with his demeanor. "No one else knows but me. Sure, people can gossip, have their own opinion…but that doesn't cast you out. People will always try to tell you who you are and what you should or shouldn't do—I'm even doing it right now. But what you did…was because you've got a strong heart. A good one. I think the church could use a few more people like you, in all honesty."

I almost laughed. _Seriously?_ People like me—the people that kill others, break the law, hide fugitives, aid and abed mass murderers, and lie under oath? _Yeah, people like me_. Though untrue, the statement had a nice sentiment. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, Father," I sighed.

"But?"

"But…I think I'm too broken to be strong anymore. I don't want to keep going like this, this…desperate, white knuckle grip on the last drop of sanity I might have left only to find out every time that I didn't have any to begin with," I continued, semi-quiet. "I'm just…empty now, and I have no one left. It's back to where this all started and I feel like I'm going crazy."

He was quiet a moment. Then he turned a little more toward me. "I understand you've had some…very tragic losses. But what about what you still have?"

"What do you mean?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Well, you have your son. And your still friends with Matthew, aren't you?"

I hummed quietly, indecisively, and turned back toward the grave. _No, Father, I'm not_. Would that be too cynical? Probably. Then how to phrase it without being bitter? I inhaled, "I'm keeping my options open with that one. I'm not sure if this is something I can forgive."

"You know, sometimes forgiveness isn't a feeling. It isn't this…magical, mystical revelation of emotion. But it's more of a conscious decision to heal yourself, rather than the other person," he reasoned, calmly. I nodded slowly, taking in the words. He continued, "Sometimes it's a sign, flashing brightly in your face. And other times, you wake up one day and realize you don't want to hurt anymore, and haven't for a long time. It comes from the strangest places. Just keep your mind open."

"I will," I agreed, exhaling. "Thank you, for this."

"It's what I do. Well, that, and we started from a very dark place, Alison. I'm not going to stop until we've finished some place better." I only looked up after he'd walked away. Never in my life have I ever had such a positive religious figure. That man has a way of slapping sense into you without actually slapping you, but still getting the point across. I sighed, letting my shoulders drop.

Snow crunching, echoing under footsteps, sounded behind me a moment before I a heard a familiar voice. "Hope I'm not too late," I glanced left just as Agent Coulson came to stand there beside me. "Thought I'd pay my respects." I eyed him a moment. Right…paying respects…sure. S.H.I.E.L.D. agent acts suspicious, shows up in a place he shouldn't be, and I'm supposed to not question it?

"I may be friends with Dani, but you and I aren't close," I turned to him. "What's the skinny?"

He exhaled. "You catch on fast. You'd make a great agent some day. Dani wanted me to give you this."

I glanced down. He held out a folded piece of paper. Great, her goodbye. Not really something I needed today. I pulled my hand from my pocket and snatched the paper, then retracted both hand and note into my pocket. "Are you offering me a job, Coulson?" I tilted my head a little, raising an eyebrow, curiously.

"We're always looking for new recruits."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Maybe not," he nodded a little, a knowing look to his expression. He turned and walked back the way he came, disappearing behind me. I paused, thinking. Then I whirled. "So that's it? You slide me a note and disappear?" I asked. He stopped a few yards away, passed a couple rows of headstone, and turned halfway to see me. "And if I had asked? Would you have said yes?" he asked, rhetorically.

 _Would I?_ I don't know. Maybe not. But maybe I would. Though, he didn't ask, so I'll never truly know. I wouldn't be able to join S.H.I.E.L.D. and still be Chase's mother. So I guess my answer is no. I remained silent and he gave a small, closed mouth smile, almost as if seeing I'd made up my mind on my face. He turned without another word, and continued on his way. I took a deep breath and looked back at Frank's headstone.

It had to get easier, saying goodbye. It had to. I stepped up around the fresh row of dirt and pressed my lips to my fingertips, then placed them on the corner of the stone. "Don't raise too much hell, alright?" I whispered, because that's all I could force. My eyes were becoming a haze, and I blinked hard. "I love you." It took everything in me to pry myself from that spot and walk to my car. My fingers encircled the door handle, but I didn't open it.

I paused, taking a deep breath. Then I leaned forward and dropped my forehead into the side of the window. _Come on, Alison. You can do this_. I pulled myself upright, sniffling hard, and forced myself to open the door. "Miss Fletcher!" I quickly swiped a look right. Just a few car lengths down the path-like road was another car. Black, clean and crisp. But what caught my attention, what sent fire into my blood, was the person hurrying toward me from it.

It was Towers—that weasely ADA. I sighed heavily and shoved my door closed, letting it slam. He hurried up to me, stopping a couple feet from me, and I jutted my hands out at my sides in a gesture. "You better have a darn good reason to be showing your face right now," I warned.

"Trust me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't important," he assured, slightly out of breath. I slid my hands into my pockets and he continued, "There won't be any charges against you for what was said during the trial. Reyes got them waved as one of the last things she did before the courthouse incident—with a little bit of my persuasion."

I shrugged. "So, what? Am I supposed to thank you?"

"I just thought you should know," he shook his head.

"Well, thanks, Skippy- but I don't care."

"Um, just- one last thing. Reyes also was in the process of getting the custody of your son restored," he quickly added, stopping me from reaching for the door. "She almost had it, too, but, um…her life was ended—as you know—at the courthouse. I'm very sorry for your loss, Miss Fletcher. For all of it." I just stared—more like glared. Why did he feel the need to confront me today, of all days?

Couldn't this have waited? I inhaled, holding back a swear, and nodded once. "Sure. You're only sorry because you lied about the cover-up—and because you helped try to get Frank killed. You just feel guilty. And you should. Now go back to whatever pathetic human beings like you do all day, and if I ever see your face again-"

"I understand," was all he said. He nodded, then swiftly turned, and started back for his car. Like a kicked puppy in retreat. Maybe I was a bit overboard, but I honestly don't care anymore. People like him don't get to be sorry. People who cause others pain knowingly don't get to feel guilty about it. They made a conscious decision to ruin someone's life. I yanked open my door with a huff and slid in, pulling It closed behind me.

I let my eyes fall closed and leaned my head back into the seat. After a moment of letting myself calm down, I sat up, and pulled out Dani's letter. Of course she had to write something, instead of calling me. It was probably the best option realistically. She must have known that, if she called, I wouldn't have given her the time of day she needed to say what she had to say. My fingers unfolded the crip paper and my eyes started reading the thin letters.

 _Alison,_

 _I'm sorry this is the first you're hearing from me. Recovery has been tough. But I have you to thank for that. Jemma explained that, without you, I would've died. And, considering what happened right before, I'm very thankful that you decided to help me. I'd say I owe you, but after everything, I'd say we're even now._

 _I know we haven't really been on good terms the last…well, since your boy toy showed up. And I'm sorry for that. Silly me. I was too concerned with your safety to worry about your emotional well being. Oh well. I'll try again next time. But even with me giving you a hard time about your choice in men, you were still there for me when Mary died._

 _Not only did you save me from Ward that night, but you welcomed me into your crowded home while I tried to figure everything out. And I still haven't, by the way. It's a working progress, as is my life. But there are some things I am sure of: for starters, Matt and I are done. We said our peace and have moved on. (Kind of)._

 _I'm back with S.H.I.E.L.D., but I don't know for how long. I'm going to help them find Ward, and kill him preferably. If we stick him in jail he'll just get out again. And I don't want him taking someone else's Mary. So in the ground he'll go. The one funeral I'll be cheering and clapping at, like a stinking football game. His will be the one life I won't ever regret taking._

 _And, the city? I don't know where I'm going, or what I'll do with my life. But I don't think what I'm looking for is in Hell's Kitchen. I moved there to start over after Andy died, stayed because I fell in love, and am now leaving because that love is gone. Well, not gone. I'll always love Matt and wish things could be different. But you know how he is…he'll only change if he wants to._

 _I'll reopen Dylan Investigations, just don't know where. Maybe the west coast. I spent some time there growing up. It's nice. Nothing like Hell's Kitchen. That place is one of a kind. But people will always need a PI so it doesn't really matter where I go._

 _I saw Lizzie a few days ago. She's talking more and more. Picking up bad habits from Clint's kids. Shocker. But, she's walking now. It was so cute. She was so happy to see me again. It had been, what? Two weeks, I think. She walked up to me, arms outstretched. And it was then that I realized she's mine. Like a dog. That, for the first time, I have this living thing depending on me. Depending on me for everything._

 _And it was then that…I think I finally realized what you feel for Chase. That kind of love…that's the kind that will never leave you, the kind that really will kill you if it were gone. And I know she feels the same way about me. I can't help but feel sad knowing what Mary and Andy are missing every time she reaches a new milestone._

 _But, at the same time, I know that they wouldn't want any other person watching her or to be there for her as she grows up. That thought is helpful, since I feel like I'm going to royally mess it up. But I know for a fact she misses Chase, and I'm sure he misses her. I'll come by for a visit sometime._

 _I'll live with Clint for a while and look for a new city, a new life. Mind you, though, I'm keeping the name. I'm not going to go crazy and disappear. You might see me one day. So beware. And, be prepared for a lot of kid questions. The internet can only tell me so much._

 _But, if you EVER need anything, missy, don't you dare hesitate to call me. I want to know everything. You get a hang nail, I should know about it. Okay? Whether I'm in Hell's Kitchen or China, I'm still your friend. And I'll be there for you. All you have to do is call. I mean, really. It's not that hard. Just pick up the phone. You know I'll answer._

 _You'll be hearing from me soon. I'll keep you updated as to where I decide to live and raise Lizzie. And, if you're wondering where the hero thing plays into this then your guess is as good as mine. Angel is a wanted criminal in the state of New York, and Daredevil's partner. And I am nether of those things._

 _She served her purpose, saved a lot of lives (mine not being one of them). But I think it's time she retired. You know? Move on. I'll still save people, that's in my blood just as much as killing is. If I see someone who needs help I won't hesitate to help them. Like I did with you all those years ago. But I'm done looking for trouble. I'm going to sit back and laugh as I wait for it to find me. Smart, I know. But affective._

 _I have to go, but keep in touch. I know I haven't said this yet, but I'm sorry about what happened on the roof. No one should ever have to go through that. If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here. But for now, this is goodbye. Remember to call me, dang it! And remember, Alison, I'm only one call away._

 _I'm glad we met when we did, at the law firm. Would've been weird had we stayed in contact when I first saved you. Knowing you, you would've fallen for my brother. He was so your type, too. Anyway…I'll see you around, Fletcher. Say 'hi' to the turd for me._

 _-DD_

 _P.S.  
He can have the X-Box._

I exhaled sharply through my nose and shifted my eyes up from the page as a pang of finality hit my chest. Well, great. Now I don't feel angry. I just feel empty. Dani's not coming back. If I know her, she'll stay away as long as humanly possible. I tried to count how many friends I had, and I could barely find even one. Karen's dead, Foggy is at arm's reach, Dani's living La Vida Loca, Mary's dead, and Matt….

 _This is ridiculous_. Tossing the letter into the passenger seat, I shoved the keys into the ignition and started the engine. Then I threw it in gear and started driving. I'd driven this route many times over the course of the last year and a half. It felt so naturally to be driving it again. Before I knew it, I was pulling up along the sidewalk in front of Matt's building, cutting the engine and unclipping my seatbelt.

I slid out of the car and shut the door behind me, pressing the lock button on the keys as I started for the building's door. The car chirped back at me in response. It wasn't hard to get to Matt's apartment door. I stood there, two feet in front of me, trying to psych myself up to it. I held up my fist to knock, but paused. Is this really what I've stooped to? _Oh, shut up, you baby. You can't lose him, too_.

I inhaled and connected my knuckles to the wood twice, before retracting my hand to wait. There was a long moment of quiet. And, for a second, I thought maybe he wasn't even home, and I'd have to go back to the Café empty handed. But then the lock turned inside and the door pulled open. Matt stood in the doorway wearing plaid pajama pants and a dark t-shirt. "Alison? Is everything okay?"

He sounded genuinely concerned. Like he couldn't believe I'd be here without a life or death reason. And I couldn't blame him in the slightest. "Can…can I talk to you?" I asked, hesitantly. "Please?" He didn't hesitate to step back, pulling the door open all the way. He gestured with his hand. "Yeah…of course," he agreed, calmly. I nodded once and took the first step inside. My stomach was wound tight.

But I continued in, walking past him into the living room. It felt so empty. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something was definitely missing. Matt closed the door and followed into the living room and, as I stopped, he walked around me to stand a few feet across from me. I didn't really wait for a prompt or a question; I just took a deep breath and started talking.

"When…when Frank first came into the Café, before the park shooting, I didn't really think anything of it. You know, another customer, another dollar—what did it matter? After a while all the faces start to blur together anyway. But he didn't come alone. No, his wife and two children were there, too. I talked to his wife, to his kids. So when he came back, after the shooting, I knew exactly what he'd lost. And it wasn't just because of that, it was because…I have a son, and I couldn't imagine what I would do if I ever lost Chase.

"You think…'it's a tragedy, but it'll never happen to me' until it does happen to you, and you lose everything, all at once. I know what it's like to lose people but this…the look in his eyes when he told me…my heart broke like it'd happened to me, Matt. He just wanted me to write a story, to tell everyone what happened. And I said I would look into it. Next thing I know, he's shooting up the hospital. There was this moment, after I'd shoved Karen into the stairwell.

"I looked behind me and I saw it was him, and he knew it was me, and…he lowered his gun. In that moment he was telling me he wasn't going to shoot me, that I wasn't the target. Then the next day he comes into the Café needing to talk to me and I almost hit him. I mean, after what he'd done to you and to Dani and he wants me to care about what he has to say? I honestly wasn't going to start helping him, I really wasn't…"

I looked down, fidgeting with the hem of my jacket. I sighed heavily and shifted my eyes back up to Matt. He was quiet, waiting for me to continue patiently, his head cocked to the side with his expression intrigued. I inhaled,

"But that night you and Dani fought those bikers, in the stairwell, and Frank disappeared on you? He was in my car waiting for me. He was bleeding out and he asked for my help. And you know me, I…I see someone that needs medical attention and I can't help myself. So…we went to his ratty apartment and I stitched him up. Of course, we argued, because he wanted me to say I was on his side and I couldn't. So he took me to the park.

"We went to the carousel. Again, we argued, but I could tell he was holding back. He never yelled at me, never touched me—or threatened to. He told me he chose to come to me because he…he remembered meeting me at the Café before the shooting. So he thought he could trust me. And I agreed to write the story. I don't know what it was that made me believe he wasn't going to be another Wesley, but I trusted him.

"I don't know what I was thinking for any of this. At any time, the Irish could've found out about me and hurt me, or Chase. And yet I kept putting us both in danger because I couldn't bring myself to tell Frank goodbye. By the time he was arrested…I'd been in love for a while. And, it's funny, Dani snuck me into his hospital room and I don't think anyone ever found out. But we did it, and you know what Frank said to me?"

My eyes were welling up but I swallowed it down. Matt looked solemn. He gave a shake of his head. "No," he answered, quietly. I let out a shaky breath, trying to regain what was left of my composure before continuing. I inhaled, hiccupping a little.

"He, um…he said he loved me. That he was sorry I got hurt, that it was the last thing he wanted. And I told him that I loved him, too, and I tried not to let it get to me, I did…but I thought I would lose him because of the trial. He wasn't just some poor sap that lost everything and needed closure anymore—he was…he was so much more than that. I couldn't talk to him, I couldn't see him, so Dani would pass along the occasional message.

"But what really hurt me, wasn't messing up and blowing our secret relationship out of the water. It was when we were counting on you and you weren't there. You…you were my _hero_ , Matt. And, despite everything going on, I secretly hoped you would be that hero again, but you never showed. And then you finally came and Frank ruined our chances. He told me later, in prison, that he'd taken an offer. I didn't know from who—he wouldn't say.

"But it made me angry. Because maybe—just maybe—if you'd been there, he wouldn't have had to have taken that stupid offer in the first place. And I blamed _you_. I blamed you for Mary and then I blamed you for Dani's hurting and I blamed you for the trial blowing up in our faces. And, you know, when I was sitting in the waiting room at the hospital…you never called, you never came by. It was radio silence. I _hated_ you."

I sniffled, hard, trying to hold back more tears. Matt was leaning into the armrest of one of his chairs. His eyes were downcast, his jaw set, listening. If you looked close enough you could see that his bottom lip was quivering slightly.

I continued, "When you needed me last year, I was always there. When you needed patched up, who did you call? Me. When you were upset or needed to talk, who did you call? _Me_. I was _always_ there. And when I felt completely alone, and I had no one, who was there for me? Karen, Mary—but they're both dead now. Dani was even there for me a lot. But not you. No, I couldn't count on _you_.

"I helped you, I cared about you—I _needed_ you. But I've grown out of it. The only person now that I _actually_ need is dead. He taught me so much just from being around him. No matter how much I made him mad, no matter how many times I hit him, he always came…he always came back to _me_. And…no matter how I feel, Matt, I don't want to lose you from my life. We're the reverse.

"Even if you don't, I…I keep caring about you, I keep helping you. I keep coming back to that girl I was a year ago, and I don't need a _hero_ anymore. I don't. I need my _friend_ back. I don't trust you, and it's going to take a long time to get past what's happened…but I _need_ you, Matt. I can't lose anyone else, I- I can't."

Through my own tears, it was hard to see. But I almost could make out water in his eyes as he finally looked at me. He pushed off the chair and moved toward me, and I met him halfway across the living room, throwing my arms around his neck. His arms encircled my middle and his face nestled into my right shoulder, holding me tightly. Neither of us said anything for a long moment.

On my end, it was mostly thanks to the tears that wouldn't stop coming. Everything balled up inside of me like a spring loaded grenade. I guess it decided it best to explode right now. I could feel Matt shaking against me, trembling. Then I heard it. He was crying. He pulled up his head so his chin was just above my shoulder and sniffled. "I don't wanna lose you, either," he finally said. "I- I let you down…I'm so sorry."

I don't know what I expected in coming here. But this definitely was not it. Holding each other, crying our eyes out, making amends? I sure didn't see that coming. Did you? Good. Glad I'm not the only one.


	43. Stand by Me

**Alison's POV**  
(bellamysgirl)

"I'd like to welcome our guest to the air waves this morning," Trish said, her voice smooth and clipped. "The writer of the wildly popular New York Bulletin article, 'My Punisher,' Alison Fletcher is here in studio with us. Alison, thanks for coming on."

I readjusted the bulky headphones and inhaled. "Thanks for having me, Trish."

"So, I think everyone's got some questions about what all happened in Hell's Kitchen this year, and they're probably all about you now, thanks to your article. What made you want to right such an in depth look at your relationship with one of the most feared people in New York City?" Trish asked. She gave me a supportive look, but she wasn't holding anything back.

"Well…if I had a dollar—or even just a nickel—for every person that told me something about Frank Castle that wasn't true, I'd be a millionaire by now," I answered, keeping my voice as even as possible. Trish watched me intently, curiously. "I didn't want to write up a bunch of excuses. But I also couldn't let people continue to believe lies."

"Do you mind if I read a paragraph from the article?" Trish asked, sitting up. She grabbed the newspaper lying in front of her on the desk and I shook my head. She turned to the article, leaning in as she read. "'You don't truly know what someone is going through unless you've gone through the same thing. I can't say that I have. Or that half the people in this city have. But I know what it's like to be a parent. Your kids become your world, your very purpose for everything you do.'"

She looked up from the page turning to me, "Now, you write in your article that you relate to Frank Castle hugely because of your son, as written here. Do you think any feelings you might have had for him came from sympathy alone?"

I shook my head. "Not likely, no. You have to think of him as two different people—Frank Castle, and the man coined The Punisher. They're separate and anyone innocent he'd ever come across has known him as Frank Castle. When you get to know him, you quickly learn there's more to him than just a gun and a sob story."

"Okay, now, I have to ask. I think every girl in the city is wondering—I know I am. Why? And, how? You wrote a lot of outlined events but, everyone's wondering- how on God's earth did a retired reporter from the Bulletin get roped into a steamy romance with New York's most wanted?" she asked, a small smile playing on her lips. "Everyone is calling you two a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast."

I chuckled a little at that. _Beauty and the Beast, huh?_ That's actually kind of catchy, but not as accurate as you'd think. I sighed. "I…well, I don't think I even really know how or why. For me…I just know that he was a lot of things I needed. Knowing he wasn't actually insane helped a lot, though."

She hummed. "What do you say to the people that think _you're_ insane?"

"I say…that you've been force fed a lie. The DA cover up is in the article, but people don't seem to really get it. They're stuck on the fact that he killed people but they never stopped to think about who exactly Frank Castle has killed. The Mexican Cartel, the Irish mob, and the Dogs of Hell. Do those three names sound like angels to you? I think you're all missing the point."

Trish nodded, her chin on her fist, her elbow on the desk. Once I'd finished answering, she sat up. "Regardless if you're crazy or not, _I_ personally fell head over heels for this article. It's insightful, factual, and you took a huge risk putting this out there. Let's go to the phones."

After several phone calls, the interview was over, and I was driving home. Never in a million years did I expect an article to get me on a radio talk show to be interviewed. But I am more famous now, I guess. I think it's probably safe to say that most people don't like me. Oh, well. I don't like me either, so at least we're in the same boat.

 **ONE WEEK LATER…**

I sighed heavily, jamming my finger into the buttons on the cash register. "Come on, you forsaken piece of-" Finally, the till drawer rolled open, and I exhaled. _It's about time_. I've only been threatening to throw the stupid thing out the window for the last fifteen minutes. Once again, the cash register was starting to refuse to work. I think this time I'm just going to buy a new one. The bell above the door jingled and a hollow huff sound from behind me.

I twisted to look down at Boss, lying on his dog bed against the wall, near the edge of the counter. "Hey, what did we talk about?" His ears quirked up as he looked at me. "Customers are friends, yeah? Chill, dude." He made a small sound of disapproval and dropped his head onto the bed beneath his front paws. I made the mistake of going to Frank's apartment at Dani's yesterday.

And, much to my surprise, I found that stalky silver pitbull roaming around. I couldn't leave him there alone to starve to death, so I brought him back to the Café. I think Chase is in love. His cat, however, is a different story. Just as I thought that, Rueben stepped off the bottom step, coming from upstairs. He glanced left, hissing when he saw the pitbull. Rueben's back arched up and he got on his toes, tip toeing away in a jolt.

I laughed, shaking my head as I turned back to the counter. Once again, Chase got to name the new animal. That's why it's obvious and kind of ridiculous to call the thing Boss. But my version of practical and Chase's version of practical were two completely different shades of weird. The bell above the door jingled again and I glanced up. I recognized the redhead walking toward the counter, and quickly walked out to meet her halfway. She smiled. "Sorry I'm late—traffic was crazy."

"Eh, it's only a couple minutes. I was busy with the cash register anyway. Take a seat." We sat at one of the tables near the back, as to not take up any space for actual customers. This was a job interview. I put a Help Wanted ad in the Bulletin a week ago, and I've gotten a few applicants. I didn't even expect anyone to be interested.

I sat in the chair facing the front, to keep the door in my view. "So, Lucy, why do you want to work here?"

"I have a lot of free time recently after some cutbacks at my previous job, and I need the money."

"What kind of restaurant experience have you had?"

"Well, my dad owned his own restaurant for most of my childhood, and I worked there a lot," she explained, lightly. "I also have some experience working at a Starbucks uptown. Lattes are my specialty, but I can pretty much make anything."

"Okay, the hard question—why should I hire _you_?" I asked, leaning into the table on my forearms.

"I'm great with people, I work hard—I'll be the last one here every day—and I know there are huge shoes to fill working here, but I know I can do it. I'm willing to put in the hours, pretty much whenever you need me," she went on, enthusiastically, like she really believed what she was saying. I nodded as she spoke, thinking. She continued, "I'll do whatever you need me to do, and I'll smile while I do it."

Lucy had the right attitude and work ethic. But I wasn't ready to make a decision right on the spot when I hadn't even talked to any of the other candidates. So I told her I'd call her and she left about five minutes before my next option walked through the front door.

A tall, lanky guy with black colored everything—and I mean everything. Black eyeliner and lipstick, naturally fair skin, a black leather vest and pants to match, with a black t-shirt and combat boots. I stared for a long moment with rounded eyes, unsure of even how to start. But I cleared my throat, looking down at my notepad. "Um…Kyle, is it?" I glanced up.

"My friends call me Bones," he nodded.

"Okay…so, Bones, _why_ do you want to work here?"

And that wasn't the most annoying interview. No, that title belongs to the next one. A perky girl half my age in a sundress, with her bleach blonde curls pulled into a bun. She was way too bubbly for my taste—that would get on my nerves too fast to make it work. But I told her I'd call her and sent her home. There were three others after that, and none of them seemed right.

 _Probably because none of them were Mary_. No one could ever dream of replacing what this place lost when she died. I sighed heavily, leaning my palms into the counter. Halfway to closing and I'm no closer to more staff than I was several hours ago. But I have a business to run. So I grabbed my tray and headed into the dining area. No one needed anything too major. I refilled some drinks.

I served two new customers that only recently walk in. It was a chore trying to keep Boss from barking every time someone new came in. He mostly stayed by the counter all day. I had a good hunch that he was probably depressed. He knew me, and apparently liked me, but his bond really was with Frank. And Frank wasn't coming back anytime soon.

Chase got in at three, thanks to Matt walking him home after school. Just another thing on Matt's never ending list of ways to try and befriend me again. Of course, Chase had no idea why I would be tiffing with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. So, thankfully, he just thought Matt was being even cooler that he was before and I didn't have to explain anything complicated.

It was pretty busy even up until closing. Chase mostly stayed upstairs, playing on the X-Box Dani left behind for him. Once everyone filed out, and it was dead, I was able to breathe. Working here by myself was the worst idea ever. But my indecisive, idiot self couldn't pick someone to help me out. I spent the next hour after closing cleaning up. Clearing tables, washing dishes, wiping down he counter—and other various menial tasks.

Once that was finished, I was finally able to go upstairs. Boss followed behind me, tired from a hard day's work of doing nothing, and he curled up on the couch before I'd even reached the top step. First thing I did was go to my room and change my clothes. My work clothes were always sweaty and worn at the end of the day. So I changed them out for a pair of my striped pajama shorts, a white tank top, and my light green zipper sweater.

Then I went into the bathroom to wash my face. I flicked on the water and paused. The sounds from Chase's video game were echoing in from his open bedroom door, all the way into the bathroom. Explosions and muffled cries combined with dramatic music and some kind of narration I couldn't quite make out. I sighed and splashed the warm water on my face, making a mental note to put a time limit on those stupid games.

He really didn't need the X-Box, and I wished Dani hadn't left it for him. Now I've got to put up with him playing video games all day and all night. I scrubbed all the dirt and various oils form my face, then grabbed a towel and dried myself off. I dropped the towel in the laundry basket and everything in me went rigid. Suddenly I didn't hear the video game people dying violent, horrible deaths. But instead, I heard a familiar beat echoing softly up the stairs.

Boss perked up on the couch with a muffled growl, and I pointed at him, starting for the stairs. "Stay." I hadn't even hit the stairs yet and my chest was aching. I know that song. The singer's voice echoed up after a few seconds and I took the stairs two at a time. My heart was thumping in my ears, anxiety and anticipation coiling in my stomach. Maybe it was just that stupid juke box on the frits?

It had to be. Just another piece of junk in this place that doesn't work right. _Right? Right_. "… _no I won't be afraid, oh I won't be afraid…just as long as you stand…stand by me_ …" I rounded the corner, about ready to kick whoever set this up into next week, and my feet hit the bottom. I only got in one step before I was stopped dead in my tracks. All the air left my lungs, and tears instantly welled up in my eyes.

No. _That's not possible. It's just not_. Frank stood just past the counter, about center Café, obviously waiting for me. He looked exactly how I'd last seen him. Except, this time, there were no arrow wounds to his chest and he wasn't about to die. He looked perfectly healthy and alive.

" _If the sky…that we look upon…should crumble and fall, and the mountain should crumble to the sea…I won't cry, I won't cry, oh I…won't shed a tear, just as long as you stand…stand by me_ …"

Though every inch of my brain was convinced it had to be a dream, some crazy hallucination, my heart was not. Hot tears burned their way down my cheeks and I hurried toward him, throwing my arms around him and holding on tightly. He reciprocated quickly, wrapping his arms around my middle in a firm hold. He buried his face in my hair and I breathed in the scent of him. It was all too much. But he was here, somehow.

It couldn't be real, and yet it was happening. I couldn't be bothered with the how and why. I was too relieved to have him in my arms again. I was too at home. And that song…how did he remember that? It was the first song Chase got to play on that stupid juke box, the day when Frank came into the Café with his family. I mean, the guy gets shot in the head and he somehow remembers this place at all, let alone a stupid song that was playing?

 _Unbelievable_. I couldn't bring myself to say anything. I was too encased by the steady thumping of his heart, how it intertwined with the beat of the music as the song broke into its musical intermission. I let my eyes fall closed and my shoulders relax. I didn't notice when it started, but slowly, we eased into a sway with the music. Now it was really too much. But what was worse, was realizing how far into the song we were.

It was at its last chorus, the one which the song fades out to. It hit my chest with a crushing grip—what if this really is a dream? What if somehow hearing that stupid song made me dream this all up? What if however long the song lasts, is all we have? Just as that realization set in, we'd stopped moving, and Frank pulled back enough to see my face.

But it was only long enough to catch my lips between his in a deep, intoxicating kiss that made all thoughts of an ending fade from my mind. I kissed him back just as deeply, trying to hold on, trying to cling to some bit of him that might be real. It didn't last long. Just a fleeting moment. And when he pulled away, I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes. " _Stand by me_."

His voice sounded so far away, at yet he was right in front of me. The phrase caused my eyelids to flicker up. And, just like that, he was gone. I looked over at the juke box. It was quiet, powered off. And it sunk in then. A sob crawled up my throat and I quickly cover my mouth with the back of my wrist, my other hand resting on my stomach absentmindedly. He wasn't gone. Because I never really had him.

On the battlefield of love, we search for higher ground, but it's in the trenches we find love worthy of sacrifice.


	44. The Scene at the End

**Dani's POV  
** (Nightwing27th)

I sat in the passenger seat, the heater blowing at full force. I had all the fans pointed at me and yet I still couldn't get warm. I held my hands an inch from the fan. I'd wait till they were almost burned and then flip them, repeating the process. Finally, I saw him walk around the front of the car to the driver's door. He opened it and then got in, closing the door.

He brought with him a fresh wave of cold. The car was so small, we were shoved together. I felt the cold of his jacket and shivered. He glanced at me, then forward. Then he reached back behind my seat and immerged a second later, tossing a blanket in my lap.

I looked down at it as he put the car into drive. "Thank you," I said it like it would've been nice to know that was back there. I unfolded the blanket and then positioned it on my lap. About ten minutes into the drive, I looked at him. "You don't have to do this." My voice was quiet and cold, but sincere. "With Ward."

His eyes didn't leave the road. He just…ignored me. As usual. I sighed and settled back down into the blanket. "Well, at least let me explain what you're getting yourself into."

"You already have," he said. I looked at him. He glanced down at me, then back at the road.

"Okay…? Then, what else do you want to talk about? I think we've pretty much swapped all our war stories."

"Do we _have_ to talk about something?"

"Well, aren't you wonderful?" I sighed. "Do you honestly think I'm going to be trapped in a car with you for ten hours and _not_ talk?" He looked down at me and met my eyes. He snapped back to the road and huffed. I mock huffed in the same manner he did. I crossed my arms under the blanket and hunkered down.

Twenty minutes later and I was kicking off the blanket and shutting the heat off. I didn't ask, I just did it. I sat back, leaning the seat back slightly. I glanced around, bored out of my mind. "So…Picasso," I said, and I could've sworn I heard him sigh. I smiled slightly before continuing. "Do you…fondue?"

He glanced out his window before looking down at me, eye brow raised. He was internally asking himself if I was serious. And yes. I am. But this is his fault for not thinking of anything better. He glanced at the road before looking back at me. Still no reply.

"What?" I said. "I can do this all day."


	45. Author's Note

Hello, everyone!

Thank you so much for reading and continuing with us. We are **VERY** excited to let you know that book **THREE** in the Hell's Angel series will be available February 1st 2017! Copy and paste this: watch?v=8ZIQ4yS1Y7E into your search bar to watch a special sneak peek of our next book.

We hope to see you then!

Sincerely,

Nightwing27th & bellamysgirl  
(Nightwingbellamy)


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